Southern Winds of an Unknown World
by Smeagol Fasir Kenobi
Summary: When Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin are captured by strange creatures, the rest of the Fellowship must join with a very strange group to rescue them.
1. A Small Problem

Disclaimer: I do not own the Fellowship. I do not own Faramir or Elrond or anyone else in Lord of the Rings. The Woodland Wanderers? Well, I don't own them, either. They're just my friends. I don't think that counts. Also, I do not own the references made in here to X-Men or to Star Trek or Star Wars . . . I think you get the idea.  
  
Author's Note: This is my first Fan Fic but if you have something rude to say, say it.  
  
Important: This is only what might happen if my friends were to meet the Fellowship under these strange conditions. Thank goodness that hasn't happened yet!  
  
"Even a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."  
–Someone smart whose name I can't remember  
  
"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to. Do you realize that this is the same road that leads to Mirkwood, and to the Lonely Mountain, and darker, more dangerous places if you let it."  
–Bilbo Baggins  
  
Chapter One A 'Small' Problem  
  
"Radagast, pacing is not going to help the situation, and it's not going to help your leg, either," Elrond said for what must've been the hundredth time. Truthfully, though, it was just as hard on him. This wasn't supposed to happen. They'd destroyed the Ring. Everything was supposed to wind down. What had gone wrong?  
My leg's fine," Radagast insisted. "Don't you have better things to do than worry about my leg? It was a simple attack by the goblins. It wasn't bad."  
"You're hiding something," Elrond observed, though even he couldn't tell what.  
"You looked the wound over yourself. There's nothing unusual"  
"How many did you say there were?"  
"Three."  
"They usually don't travel in such small numbers."  
"Their forces are diminished."  
"There's something else: something stranger."  
"What's strange isn't what happened to me. What's strange is what happened to the Hobbits.  
"What about them?" asked a voice from the doorway. Elrond turned, though he needn't have. He knew Bilbo's voice.  
"You didn't tell him?" Radagast asked.  
"Tell me what, Master Elrond?" the old Hobbit inquired.  
"It's about Frodo. . . . .and his friends," Elrond admitted.  
"Samwise, Meriadoc, and Peregrin?"  
"The same."  
"What's happened to them?"  
Elrond took a deep breath. "We don't know," he said reluctantly. "They've disappeared."  
  
* * *  
  
Meanwhile, an unusual party of five was on their way to Rivendell, or Imladris, to give it its Elvish name. They were Aragorn, King of Gondor, Eomer, King of Rohan, Éowyn, his sister, Faramir, Steward of Gondor and Éowyn's husband, and Bergil, son of Beregond, whom they had left to govern Minas Tirich in their absence. Not far ahead of them was Arwen, daughter of Elrond and, recently, wife of Aragorn and Queen of Gondor.  
"Hurry, Eomer," Faramir beckoned. The most reluctant of the five, the newly crowned King of Rohan was at the end of the line. Aragorn, who knew the paths best of the five, was leading, with young Bergil close behind him. Faramir and Eowyn walked together, constantly waiting for their friend.  
"I don't like the idea of leaving Rohan unguarded," Eomer admitted, setting his pace with his sister and brother-in-law.  
"I wouldn't say 'unguarded,'" Eowyn reminded him.  
"Yes, the Ents are there, but I still don't feel it's right for a king to just go off and leave his people in the hands of walking trees."  
"Lord Aragorn had no problem," Faramir observed.  
"You can drop the title," Aragorn called from the head of the group. "As long as we're anywhere close to Rivendell, it's either Aragorn, Strider, Dunedain, Estel, or Elessar. This isn't my kingdom. This is my home."  
"Home, Aragorn?" Bergil asked.  
"Yes. I was raised here, and here," he added in a voice loud enough for his wife to hear, "is where I met the Lady Arwen."  
"Well," she said, turning her horse and riding back to the group, "if you're dropping titles, then call me Arwen, Evenstar, Undomiel, or, as Aragorn likes, Tinuviel."  
"Nightingale," Faramir translated. "Luthien was also known by that name, when she met Beren, son of Barahir, in . . . ."  
"I know," Eowyn nodded.  
"I was telling Eomer."  
"Telling me what?"  
"Never mind."  
Suddenly, there came from up ahead the sounds of whinnying and the pounding of a horse's hooves. "Dunedain!" called a voice as the rider came into view. "You're needed at once!"  
The messenger was an Elf, Glorfindel by name, and had come with news of the Hobbits, Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin. Specifically, he had come with news that messengers of all kinds had come from every land. The Hobbits were nowhere in Middle-Earth.  
  
* * *  
  
"I mean it this time, Master Elf," Gimli insisted. "This time, you will enjoy it."  
"The only way possible I will enjoy Khazad-dum is if you add light and fresh air," Legolas said stubbornly.  
"It isn't that bad."  
"Yes, it is."  
"Mellon," said a voice from behind them. Gimli jumped. Legolas only smiled.  
"Perfect timing, Mithrandir," the elf commented. Then, under his breath, added, "I think you just saved my life."  
"Hardly. I only opened the door," Gandalf said simply.  
Legolas groaned. "Must we?" he asked his Dwarf companion.  
"I'm sorry, but I fear this will have to wait for another time," the Wizard said. "You are both needed in Imladris.  
'Thank you,' Legolas thought. "What's happened?" he asked.  
  
* * *  
  
A world away, for Hobbits were wondering the same thing. They had been on their way to Bree when they'd been attacked. Huge monsters with large purple wings came out of nowhere. They'd tried to escape, and, when that had failed, tried to fight, but they hadn't been very prepared. Only Merry and Pippin had brought their swords, and the monsters' numbers must've been in the hundreds. Now they were in some sort of dungeon.  
"What were those things?" Pippin asked Frodo as he shook Merry awake.  
"I haven't the faintest clue," Frodo sighed. "I thought everything was fine now that the Ring was destroyed. I was wrong again. Bilbo was right; adventures never end."  
"It would seem so," Sam agreed, "but what do they want with us?"  
"Who's 'they'?" Pippin asked. "We don't even know who those things were working for."  
"We can figure that out after we find a way out of here," Merry said. "We're all alive. That's and advantage over the last time Pip and I were captured."  
Pippin nodded. When they'd been captured by the Uruk-hai, Boromir had given his life trying to save them. That was the last thing the two youngest Hobbits wanted to see happen again.  
"Nothing's over 'til it's over," Frodo agreed. "We'll find a way out." 


	2. The Council of Elrond, Take Two

1I am soooo sorry I haven't updated in a long time. Our computer has been broken . . . well, ever since the last time I wrote on this story.  
  
Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings still isn't mine.  
  
Author's Note: Okay, so this chapter is short. Oh, and so you don't bother trying to figure it out, Avanwë is not Elvish so I do not have a translation.  
  
"Those who are quite content sit around and do nothing. It is those who are not quite content who are the sole benefactors of the world."  
  
–Another smart guy whose name I can't remember (and by the time I remember his name, I won't remember which thing he said.)  
  
Chapter Two  
  
The Council of Elrond, Take Two  
  
"Quite down, quiet down, everyone," Elrond announced. No such thing happened. With over fifty people there, including Aragorn, Arwen, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Eomer, Eowyn, Bergil, Faramir, Radagast, Bilbo, Erestor, and, of course, Elrond, everyone was pretty loud.  
  
Elrond tried again, and then turned to his right, to and Elf named Avanwë. "QUIET!" she yelled. Everyone did.  
  
"Thank you, Avanwë," Elrond said, smiling grimly. "All of you know why we're here. We don't really know much more, however. We don't know where the Hobbits were taken, or why."  
  
"I think I might," Avanwë said, rising.  
  
"Who're you?" Gimli asked.  
  
"Your friend has the answer to that, Gimli, son of Gloin," the Elf answered mysteriously.  
  
"I do?" Legolas asked. For the first time since Gimli had met him, the Elf looked surprised.  
  
"Okay, so maybe you don't remember me. I'm not all that surprised. I rarely visited Mirkwood, and didn't stay long even then. It was a long time ago. You were very young, though your father, Thranduil, would know me."  
  
"Not fondly," Radagast whispered to Bilbo on his left. The old Hobbit smiled. The King of Mirkwood had a tendency to jump to conclusions, especially about strangers.  
  
"Where are they?" Gimli asked, none too kindly.  
  
"I'm not entirely sure," Avanwë admitted. "I do know that whoever goes looking for them will find themselves facing danger unknown in Middle-Earth. I suggest, Elrond, the solution you agreed on the last time a Council like this was faced with a hard decision. A small group, big enough to fight their way through peril whilst small enough to be unnoticed."  
  
"I agree," Elrond said, a little reluctantly. Their last such Quest had come so close to complete failure so many times. Could they do it again?  
  
Gandalf was the first to step forward as a volunteer. He was a close friend of the Hobbits and hadn't had a moment's peace of mind since finding out they were missing. He'd though the War of the Ring to be his final task in Middle-Earth, but he knew it was quite possible this journey would lead them far out of Middle-Earth.  
  
Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli all stood up at the same time, only milliseconds after Gandalf. Members of the original Fellowship of the Ring, they weren't about to abandon their friends. Over-familiar with danger of all kinds, they were ready for anything, or so they thought.  
  
Faramir paused a moment, but then stood, as well. He knew the danger of such a Quest. His brother, Boromir, hadn't returned alive from one like it. He knew the Hobbits, of course. Frodo and Sam he had met on their way to Mordor, Pippin when he had returned to Minas Tirich, and Merry in the Houses of Healing, where he had met Eowyn. He was ready to follow his brother's example.  
  
Eowyn stood only shortly after her husband. Of the Hobbits, she really only knew Merry well, haven ridden with him from Rohan to the aid of a war-stricken Gondor. She'd always loved adventure as much as her brother. In fact, if he hadn't been so worried about his country and his people, Eomer would have joined the group, as well.  
  
Seeing that this was his chance, Bergil rose. He expected some form of rejection or at least surprise from Elrond, but he received none. Elrond could see the boy's resemblance to Pippin almost immediately, and knew it was useless to object. Gandalf, at least, would support the boy, and that was enough.  
  
Avanwë, the mysterious Elf who knew more than anyone else about what lay ahead, remained standing. She knew they would need her help, sooner or later, and was glad to offer it.  
  
Elrond glanced around the room. No one else seemed ready to volunteer, and he knew nine to be a good number. Or perhaps that was simply his excuse, for, when the Council ended, nine members there were: Avanwë, Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Faramir, Eowyn, Bergil, and Elrond. 


	3. An Altogether Different Group

1Disclaimer: Middle-Earth is not mine. The Woodland Wanderers are my friends. So I guess you could call them mine.

Warning: I tend to talk real fancy-like when I write a chapter like this. Bear with me. It's just an attempt to make it interesting, and perchance a little foreshadowing.

"_Often will the past direct the course of the future."_

–Peter, of the Woodland Wanderers

Chapter Three

An Altogether Different Group

Far, far, far away, on an island rightly named the Undiscovered Island, another small group held council. They're known as the Woodland Wanderers. Outlawed by their own people, hunted by monsters, and misunderstood by just about everyone else, their life was no easy one.

There were eight of them: Noka, Rona, Latano, Tandro, Balo, Peter, Eric, and Morgan. The last three were humans, all of them originally from the United States of America. Each chose to leave that life or to live only partially in it. Their hearts, now and forever, are with their island.

The other five were elves. (A/NThis is where I beg you not to get confused. There are two kinds of elves in this story. For convenience's sake, I have capitalized the ones from Middle-Earth. The fact that they are both even called elves is pure coincidence.) The elves of the Undiscovered Island are short: only about four feet. They, too, live in the woods known as the Unknown Forest, but the ones of whom I speak no longer had a home. Complete outcasts, they broke the most important law in the woods. They helped an enemy escape.

"So what now?" asked Balo, the youngest and newest of the group. An elf of only twelve years, she was Latano's niece and a warrior with much skill and a fiery temper. With light skin, long light brown hair, light grey eyes, and a light heart, her innocence was no longer a match for her experience. The former had decreased, the latter increased.

Morgan, only a year older then her elven companion, just shrugged. Most of the time, she'd leave the decisions to the others. She'd first heard of the island only two years past, and in those two years, her new-found friends had changed her life. Clip-on sunglasses now shielded the experience she'd since then found and could now be seen in her brown eyes. She had shoulder-length brown hair to match, and, when it came to this island, a confidence most thirteen-year-olds have yet to find.

Eric, in his turn, also shrugged his shoulders. Usually the first to speak up with a plan, no matter how stupid, he had nevertheless learned long ago how one simple decision could change a person's life–forever. Now over forty, age hadn't diminished his skill with his sword any more than it had greyed his pitch-black hair, which was almost as long as Morgan's. Light blue eyes that could stare through a mountain now looked to the rest of the group for an answer.

"Well. . . ." Peter started, but then hesitated. His idea made sense to him and would make sense to Morgan, but none of the others knew much, if anything, about Middle-Earth. He'd been the first to meet Morgan and shared her love for both their country and the island in whose events they'd been so thoroughly caught up. The oldest of the group, he would've passed for a wizard himself if he'd grown his grey beard longer. He had dark brown eyes and the annoying ability some people have for constantly getting into trouble.

"Well what?" Latano asked. He'd known the old man the longest and still hadn't a clue what he was talking about this time. He had grey eyes like Balo's, long black hair, and a calmness that kept his niece's temper in check. Normally quiet, he, like Morgan, usually let the others make decisions, but jumped in with an idea when he had a good one.

"Yeah, tell us," Tandro coaxed. He alone could sense Latano's impatience. Neither of them enjoyed waiting around and doing nothing. He, too, preferred to let others do most, if not all, of the talking. He'd learned that from working as a spy until he was found out. The second-newest member of the group, he'd blown his cover to save his friends, and had barely gotten away alive. He had brown hair as long as Latano's, and brown eyes as sharp as Eric's.

Noka just leaned back casually against an oak tree and smiled. Until the others came up with an idea, he was content to talk to birds. He'd mastered the skill only shortly after he'd lost his sight, only little more than two years before. At first it was sort of a hobby. Now, it was a valuable skill that the group often found useful. He, like Tandro, had grown hair and brown eyes, and the worst sight and the best hearing of the group.

Like Noka, Rona stood out, but for reasons all her own. She was the only one with dark skin, the only one with blond hair, and, until recently, she'd been the only female elf. Her experience with being considered different and strange matched even Morgan's, and her experience with people underestimating her abilities was a match for even Noka's.

"All right," Peter said at last. He whispered something to Morgan, who nodded vigorously. "Close your eyes, everyone," Peter announced.

"Where to?" asked Latano, well used to Peter's strange way of traveling.

Morgan answered for him. "Middle-Earth."

Okay, so this chapter was short. I don't like writing big long chapters. People get bored with all the words and start skipping paragraphs and miss something important. I should know; I do it. Well, review and please tell me what you think of the Woodland Wanderers. They aren't going away no matter what you tell me to do, but I am curious which ones people connect with . . . for later reasons. Thanks. –Smeagol Fasir Kenobi


	4. Deep in the Heart of Texas

1Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. Tolkien does. I do not own the song this chapter was named for. Avanwe is a representation of my sister, so I don't own her, either.

Author's Note: Boromir's ghost makes a short appearance in this chapter. If you don't like him, tough. Like the Woodland Wanderers, he is not going away.

"_Often it is the things we _do _know for sure that confuse us the most."_

Chapter Four

Deep in the Heart of Texas

Faramir stirred uneasily in his sleep. He'd had strange dreams before, especially right before important occurrences. The 'search party' was staying the night in Rivendell and then departing.

In his dream, the steward saw not at all what he'd expected. The whole sky grew in a blinding white light, so bright Faramir couldn't believe his eyes were closed. There was only one small space of shadow, encircled by the brightest of the bright light. Nevertheless, it stood out, and the young steward let his eyes rest on it, a relief from the sunlight.

Suddenly, he heard a voice he knew very well. "That's right, little brother," it said. "That's where they are."

Faramir opened his eyes with a start. The voice had been Boromir's, as clearly as he'd ever heard it. But where _was_ that island in a sea of light? What did it represent?

Faramir tried hard to go back to sleep, but, every time, the dream came. Finally, deciding he wasn't getting anywhere, he got up and wandered out to the gardens.

To his surprise, he wasn't the only one there. Bilbo was there, as well. Faramir had only briefly met the old Hobbit before the Council, but he knew he was Frodo's uncle and was very close to all four missing Hobbits.

"Is something wrong, Faramir?" Bilbo asked.

"I was about to ask the same thing. Do you always stay out this late?"

"Sometimes. The stars are so different here: brighter, more real."

"The stars at night are big and bright. . . . ." Faramir started, but then stopped abruptly. "I'm sorry. I don't know where that came from."

"Don't apologize. I've heard far worse poetry."

"Thing is, I'm not sure what's supposed to come after it."

"It'll come to you. Always does."

"You're right. The stars are more real," Faramir smiled, looking up.

"Glad you like it," said a voice from behind them.

"Avanwë! You startled me," Faramir said, amazed. His alertness was usually better.

"The words you were looking for, Faramir. '_The stars at night are big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas._'"

"The heart of _what_?"

"Humans. So thick-headed. And not what. Where."

"Where's Texas?"

"Don't ask."

"Why'd you tell me if you didn't want me to ask?"

"Just go back to sleep."

"I had a strange dream."

"So what else is new? Tell me about it."

When Faramir had finished, Avanwë nodded. "That confirms my guess," she said calmly. "I know where the Hobbits are."


	5. Many Strange Meetings

1Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR.

"_It was said to me by Elrond Halfelven that I should find friendship along the way, secret and unlooked-for. Surely I looked for no such friendship as you have shown."_

–Samwise Gamgee, To Faramir, The Two Towers (the book)

"_Man is the only creature that blushes. Or needs to." _

–Mark Twain (but I think we'd better add wizards to that.)

Chapter Five

Many (Strange) Meetings

Dawn seemed to come only after forever, yet Elrond wished it would take longer. Eomer was going back to Rohan. Arwen was going back to Gondor. Radagast was going . . . . wherever. He was staying in Imladris for the moment. And Elrond Halfelven was traveling into the unknown for the first time in years.

"You'll do fine," Glorfindel assured him.

"I still think _you_ should be doing this," Elrond answered uneasily.

"You're worried . . . . that you'll be a liability rather than an asset."

"Yes."

"Nonsense. Why, back in the second age, you were the best fighter I ever saw."

"I'm a little out of practice."

"You? Really? I don't believe that."

"I do."

"Then draw your sword and let's see."

To Elrond's surprise, he wasn't rusty at all. His sword felt perfectly right in his hands, and his movements and reactions hadn't slowed. The lord of Rivendell still had his touch.

At last, Glorfindel held up his hand. "I wasn't going easy on you, either," he told Elrond. "You did well."

"You and Erestor keep things in one piece while I'm gone," Elrond told the Elf as he headed over to join the others.

"_Le ab-dollen_," Legolas observed, looking at the sun, which was rising. "What took you so long?"

"Last-minute discussion with Glorfindel," Elrond said as they started out. Gandalf nodded knowingly, and Avanwë smiled.

"Three elves," Gimli grumbled.

"Two and a half, Master Dwarf," Elrond corrected. Normally he forsook all kinship to humanity, but he didn't feel like letting a Dwarf be right.

Eowyn smiled. She knew how Gimli felt. She and Avanwë were outnumbered, as well, as the only females in the group. It didn't matter, though. She had always been a match for any man with a sword. It was comforting, however, to not be alone.

Bergil, more than anyone else, felt totally out of place. By far the youngest and least experienced, he had been sure no one would let him come along. After all, Pippin had barely been allowed to join the Fellowship on their Quest, and he was years older. Elrond had agreed more easily this time, though, and said Bergil could come after Faramir had promised to keep a close eye on him.

Avanwë and Gandalf were at the head of the group, followed closely by Legolas and Gimli. Elrond followed them, and then Bergil, Faramir, and Eowyn. Aragorn took his preferred place at the back, happy to again be relieved of the title of leader.

"There's someone up ahead!" Legolas shouted once they'd gotten maybe two dozen meters out of Rivendell.

"I see them, too," Avanwë confirmed as Legolas joined her at the front, followed by an out-of-breath Gimli.

"Draw weapons," Elrond ordered, "and don't be fooled by appearances."

"It's about time," Gimli commented, raising his axe. Legolas and Avanwë stood ready with their bows. Aragorn, Gandalf, Eowyn, Elrond, and Bergil drew their swords. Last of all, Faramir reluctantly drew his, determined not to fight unless attacked.

"Eight of them," Legolas reported.

"More coming, most likely," Gimli said.

"They don't look like Orcs," Faramir observed, squinting into the morning light.

"I told you not to let appearances fool you," Elrond reminded the Human.

"Should we charge?" Gimli asked.

What made Elrond say 'yes,' I don't think I'll ever know, but seven of them charged as soon as Elrond gave the word. Only Avanwë lingered at the back by Faramir, watching as the two groups collided.

"You're not going to join them?" she asked.

"The strangers already have the disadvantage. Half of them, at least, look like children. I can see only two grown men, one of them very old. I don't think my help is needed. I'll join if the tide turns."

"A wise decision, especially coming from a Human."

Faramir sighed. There were times he honestly wished he was an Elf. The other reason he'd stayed back was clear. He didn't like to fight, and even when it was necessary, he didn't get the thrill from it that Boromir had, or even the sense of accomplishment that Eomer and Eowyn got. The only comfort the young steward had was that when Elrond had given the order to charge, he had also said not to kill the strangers.

The tide didn't look like it would be turning anytime soon. Though the strangers wee armed with swords and, some of them, bows, they wore no armor. Nor had they expected an attack. With no time to plan a strategy, the Woodland Wanderers were forced to 'wing it.'

Faramir, even watching from a distance, was amazed at how well the others worked together. Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn, especially, worked perfectly in time. Legolas aimed his arrows so that if the opponent dodged by leaping to the side, they would meet either Gimli's axe or Aragorn's sword, Anduril. Eowyn was guiding Bergil like the expert sword fighter she was, and Gandalf and Elrond soon found a pattern similar to the first three. Though the Woodland Wanderers had skill and experience to spare, and were used to being unevenly matched, they quickly found themselves overwhelmed.

Expert fighter that he was, Elrond couldn't help admiring his opponents' skill. One, in particular, caught his eye: a short fellow with long black hair. Nothing seemed to surprise him, and he used his small size to the best of his advantage. In spite of a slight axe-wound in his right shoulder, the warrior had switched hands and kept fighting, anyway. It took a lot to impress Elrond, but that did the trick.

Gandalf, too, had singled out an opponent: an older man with some of the best skill the Wizard had ever seen. The man kept his hood up, shielding his face, either from the sun or from sight, and kept his guard up with it, sticking to defense rather than attack. Finally, Gandalf decided he'd wasted enough time sword-fighting. One blast from the Wizard's staff knocked his opponent to the grown, unconscious. On the way, he met an arrow of Legolas', well-aimed as always, and Gimli's axe. Another flash of white light left only two of the strangers standing: one blind and one with sunglasses.

"You going to surrender now?" Gimli asked them.

"You never gave us a chance to in the first place," the girl with glasses answered. "We sought no fight."

Faramir and Avanwë rushed up. "Everyone all right?" Avanwë asked. "I mean _all_ of you."

"Mavo?" the other stranger asked.

"Glad you recognize me, Noka," the Elf answered.

"In that case, I don't thing a 'we surrender' would hurt," the girl laughed. "I thought you guys were smarter than this. I didn't even have any time for a short 'We come in peace' before Legolas here pelted us with arrows."

"Morgan?" Legolas asked, speechless.

"At your service. Allow me to introduce us. This is Noka. That's Latano and Tandro over there. That's Balo with the really long hair and Rona with the really short hair. The tall guy with black hair's Eric, and the one Mithrandir here zapped is Peter." Underneath her joking tone, however, Morgan wasn't so calm. Just looking around, she could already see the consequences of the groups' mistake. None of the other group was hurt badly, but Peter, as usual, had his knack for getting hurt worse than she thought possible. Eric, as well, had an arrow-wound in his left shoulder, and Noka one in his right. Her own head ached terribly, as well, for Gimli had hit her with the handle of his axe and her right shoulder still stung from and arrow she'd barely had time to remove. Even Balo, the youngest of the group, had a wound in her leg from Gimli's axe, and Latano one from Elrond's sword. None of these were fatal, but they _did_ have the potential to slow the progress of the small group for a little while.

"I didn't 'zap' anyone," Gandalf said calmly, breaking Morgan's train of thought. "He'll be fine soon enough."

"He would've been if you hadn't 'zapped' him in between the Elf and the Dwarf. This is some way to treat old friends."

"Do I know you?"

"Me? I doubt it. Elrond should, but that's beside the point. You sure you don't recognize the guy you 'zapped,' though?"

The Wizard knelt down by the old man. His hood was now cast back, his face visible.

"Daëlin!" Gandalf exclaimed. "Why didn't he . . . . ?"

"Tell you he was coming? Or let you know it was him? He probably would've done both had he been given the time. I'm sorry we had to meet like this, Mithrandir. We're the Woodland Wanderers. Peter, or Daëlin as he's known here, may have mentioned us."

"He did," Gandalf admitted, "but he said there were Elves in your group."

"What do you call us?" Noka demanded.

"Shrimps," Legolas offered.

Morgan just shrugged. She'd leave the explaining to someone else, or at least for some other time. "Elrond, do you think. . . . ?" she started.

"Yes," Elrond replied. "Legolas, run on ahead and tell Glorfindel . . . . well, tell him we're coming back. And that we have company.


	6. Councils of the Istari

1Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. Whatever is left of the Woodland Wanderers by the end of this story is still sort of mine.

"_Don't try to be a great man; just be a man and let history make its own selection."_

–How do you spell that guy's name? Zephrem Cockryn? (Maybe)

Chapter Six

Counsels of the Istari

"Back so soon? That's an amazing improvement on the last time. And you didn't almost get yourself killed, either! Splendid!"

"Not funny, Radagast," Gandalf sighed. "I may have gotten someone else killed. We ran into some old friends I didn't recognize at first."

"Who?"

"Daëlin and his group–the Woodland Wanderers."

"They're involved in this? Do you think. . . . ?"

"I don't know what to think now that they're in on this. We Istari were sent her to protect Middle-Earth, not the Undiscovered Island."

"Maybe it's time that changed."

"Radagast, I know how you care about the island. . . ."

"As you do Middle-Earth. I can't help it. The people there are so . . . different."

"Not unlike yourself, old friend."

"Exactly. So what'd you do to them?"

"One of them, a girl named Morgan, insists I 'zapped' them."

Radagast couldn't hold back a laugh. "'Zapped,' huh? How old's this Morgan again?"

"No more than thirteen or fourteen: too young to be involved in this."

"That's what Elrond said of Pippin."

"Yes, and Pippin just got captured."

"That's not my point, Mithrandir, and you know it. I've seen Daëlin involve people far younger than her, and they've survived. This struggle isn't only for experienced warriors."

"Could've fooled me. They fought like experienced warriors."

"Really? Good. Were any of your group injured, though?"

"Ours? No. A few cuts and scrapes: nothing even half-serious. They were at a disadvantage. No armor, either. Are they always like this?"

"Always," Radagast laughed. "That's the Woodland Wanderers for you. You 'zapped' them, huh?"

"You're not funny."

"Wasn't trying to be. I know you have a lot of power now that you're Gandalf the White, but you don't have to show it all the time. You don't see me doing _this_ every time someone asks who I am." With that, the Wizard turned himself into a robin, flapped his wings a few times, and then changed himself back.

Gandalf smiled, nodding his understanding. Following his fight with the Balrog, he'd been given power beyond that of even Saruman, and he was almost used to using it. Still, he always considered it a last resort. Last-resort situations, however, were becoming more and more common.

"I've never seen this before," Elrond sighed.

"Did I get him that bad?" Gimli asked.

"No, and that's the strange thing. Neither wound was bad, and Gandalf didn't hit him that hard, either. It must be something that happened before. As well as your axe, Master Dwarf, and your arrow, Legolas, he has a sword-wound in his right leg and an arrow-wound fairly close to his heart. Both were poisoned, if I know anything."

"Does he know?" Legolas asked.

"He does," admitted Eric, who, in spite of his own injuries, had insisted on checking up on his friend. "That's the reason it took us until this morning to get here. We were attacked."

"Orcs?"

"Nay, Legolas. Orcs don't use this kind of poison," Elrond said.

"Uruk-hai, then," Legolas suggested.

"I don't think so. Can you tell us, Eric, what attacked you?"

"Gleems."

"I was afraid of that."

"How bad is the poison?" Legolas asked.

"I'm not sure. I'm not familiar with it. It could be perfectly harmless, or it could be fatal."

"That's a big range."

"Doesn't get much bigger than that."

"Can we do anything to help?"

"Not all of what Daëlin's told me before has escaped my memory. Get Rona in here, if she wasn't hurt too badly. Together, we might be able to do something."

"No good," Pippin called down to Sam. "The window's still too high."

"There's nothing I can do about that," Sam grunted from the bottom of the pile. "Mister Frodo?"

"Nothing, Sam. Solid rock walls and a window taller than five Hobbits, much less four. A door locked from the outside with no handle, even, in here, made of who-knows-what. It looks hopeless."

"So did our Quest to destroy the Ring," Sam reminded him. "We did it, anyway."

"We had help."

"Yes, Mister Frodo, that we did. When we least expected it, too. Secret and unlooked for, Elrond said. Perhaps we'll find some now."

"Here? I don't see how," Merry said.

"Climb down," Frodo instructed. "This isn't going to work." Pippin climbed down from the top, and Merry after him. Frodo jumped down from Sam's shoulders. "We'll have to think of something better," he concluded.

"You think you know who it was?" Faramir asked Latano.

"We're pretty sure," the elf answered. "The gleems have been known to capture people for the strangest of reasons."

"So they're trying to take over your island?" Eowyn asked.

Latano nodded. "They may well be using the Hobbits as bait."

"Why? Why do they want us there?" Bergil asked.

"We don't know," Balo admitted. "They probably hope to persuade you to join them."

"That's not the best way to go about it," Aragorn observed.

"They don't know that, and neither does Confusion," Balo sighed. "We've seen this before."

"Who's Confusion?"

"Their leader," Morgan explained. "His name's actually Athos, but no one besides us calls him that."

"Athos, huh?"

"Yeah."

"How old _are_ you, Morgan. You don't look much older than me."

"Three years older, Master Bergil, if Peter got your age right."

"You don't look it."

"I wouldn't know," Noka laughed.

"Cut the blind jokes, Noka," Tandro groaned. "They're not very good."

"I haven't _seen_ you do any better."

Morgan just smiled Bergil was grinning. 'Here's hoping everyone else gets along as well,' Morgan thought.

"How's that, Daëlin?" Gandalf asked.

"I've felt worse."

"Peter, why do they keep calling you Daëlin?" Rona asked.

"I thought you said you were an Elf," Legolas said.

"I am an elf. What's that have to do with it?"

"It means you're supposed to speak Elvish."

"Daëlin is Elvish for Shadowsong," Peter explained. "I forgot to tell you that."

"Among other things," Rona sighed. "You know all these people?"

"Yes, though many of then wouldn't know me by sight."

"How bad is it, Rona," Eric asked, getting them back on track. They hadn't quite figured out everything, and, though Peter was awake, he was in a great deal of pain and they hadn't figured out what, if anything, they could do about it.

"It's pretty bad," Elrond answered for her. "It isn't fatal, but once the poison reaches his heart, it'll continue to weaken his muscles until he can't move at all. I don't know how long it will last."

"So you're saying . . . . ?" Eric prompted.

"That he'll be a liability on any long journey," Legolas interpreted. He knew Elrond would have taken twice as long to get to the point, and they had no time for that. Much as the Elf hated to break news like that to anyone, it had to be said by someone.

"He's _also_ the only one who can get us where we need to go," Eric argued. Rona nodded.

"Would you stop talking as if I'm not here?" Peter asked. "Elrond, I know your concern. I assure you, the moment I slow down any progress is the moment I'll ask you to leave me behind. Trust me this time."

"That's just the point," Gandalf said. "The moment we'll do as you ask and leave you behind will be the moment we all lose our minds. Granted, we tried to kill your group this morning, but we're not going to drag you along with us as far as you can make it and then abandon you."

"What else do you suggest, Mithrandir?"

"I don't know what else to suggest."

"Follow his plan," Radagast said. Then, turning to Peter, "Daëlin, I know what you can do. If the time comes when you can't continue, I'll stay with you, as you did for me."

"Thank you, Radagast."

"My pleasure."

So it was that Radagast the Brown joined the ever-growing group. Intent on their plan, he and Daëlin would nevertheless stay with the search as long as they could.

Meanwhile, the Hobbits had just decided it would be easier to think on a full stomach. They'd had some food with them, but little was now left. A bit had been spilt, but most eaten.

Even Sam was beginning to think it couldn't get much worse. Then it did. The door to the dungeon was flung open and a man shoved it. The Hobbits rushed over, surprised. It was Eomer.

"You okay?" Merry asked.

"Could be worse," Eomer said, struggling for breath. "They didn't attack everyone–just me."

"Who else was with you?"

"No one, . . . . but the others . . . . back at Rivendell . . . . still safe. They're coming . . . . to rescue us . . . . as soon as they can."

"Do they know where we are?" Frodo asked.

"_I_ don't even know where we are."

"Then how will they find us?" Pippin asked, confused.

"They will, my young Hobbits. They will."

**Pippinsgal11011890–**Glad you like it. Pippin and co. are in real trouble, huh? :)


	7. Together

Disclaimer: LOTR is still not mine. The Woodland Wanderers are still the best friends I could ask for. :)_ (stop reading over my shoulder, you pain-in-the-neck elf. You know I don't mean a word of it.) _Sorry about that. Latano gets flattered too easily. _(NO, don't! No Vulcan neck pinches! Ow! Okay, okay, I won't kill you off in the story right away, now let go!) _Man. Or Elf. Whatever. I don't think I claim them anymore. :)

"_Sometimes the mind has to discover things for itself."_

–Charles Xavier

Chapter Seven

Together

"I don't like this idea, Daëlin," Elrond insisted in one last, desperate try to get the old man to listen to reason and stay.

"Elrond, have you ever known me to suggest a course of action when I could think of a better one? Half an hour, you've tried to find a better way. Did it ever occur to you that there might not _be_ one?"

"Not really. I've always believed one can find a better way, always, if they look long enough."

"We don't have time to look 'long enough.' Your group is waiting, as is mine. They're counting on us."

"I'm going, but do you have to?"

"Yes."

"Very well. You're stubborn. You'll tell us if you can't go on, though?"

"Yes, though I very much suspect you'll be able to tell, Master Elrond."

"Let's go, then."

Two minutes saw the whole group together, and what a group it was! Two wizards: Gandalf and Radagast, two Elves: Legolas and Avanwë, a half-Elf: Elrond, five elves: Noka, Rona, Latano, Tandro, and Balo, seven Humans: Eowyn, Aragorn, Faramir, Bergil, Peter, Eric, and Morgan, and one Dwarf: Gimli, were all prepared to go looking for four Hobbits. Armed with swords, axes, bows, and staffs, they were also prepared for any kind of danger, or so they thought. The Woodland Wanderers, who knew the place they were going far better then most of the others, still hadn't bothered with armor, and had insisted on their normal, overly casual dress, namely, t-shirts and jeans, or, some of them, long pants.

Gimli, more than anyone, was grateful for the strange company. Finally, someone close to his height! Someone he didn't have to look real high just to talk to! Good company until they found the Hobbits again.

"So where do we go?" Bergil asked, talking to no one in particular but asking th equation quite a few of them wanted to.

"Close your eyes," Peter instructed in reply. "All of you."

"Why?" Bergil asked.

"Daëlin, if you're going to try what I think you're going to try," Elrond started.

"It's how we got here," Peter shrugged.

"Daëlin, getting here is one thing," Gandalf reminded him. "Getting back isn't as easy."

"It simply takes more concentration. I can handle that. I've done it before."

"Not when you were this weak."

"Weakness, Mithrandir, has always been a matter of perspective."

"Charles Xavier, X-men issue 304," Eric sighed. "I knew letting Morgan keep reading you those things was a terrible idea." Inside, though, he knew Peter was right. "It's our only way out of here," he said firmly to the others. "Try it, Peter."

"Gladly," Peter said. "Close your eyes, everyone." Everyone did, even Gandalf and Elrond. Radagast placed his hand lightly on Peter's shoulder, as if to somehow add to the old man's strength with his own. Peter relaxed a little, and the wind around them started to blow. It blew faster and louder, all around the group. Then it slowed down to the gentle whisper of a breeze. Elrond let go of his concentration, waiting for the signal to open his eyes. They had done it.

* * *

"That's it. Steady down there, Eomer. I can almost reach it."

"Good. You Hobbits are heavy."

"There. Hold it right there," Pippin called from the top once again. "Drat! It's closed and locked."

"Can you see where we are?"

"There's a lot of snow, and some rock; I'd guess a mountain."

"I thought it was a little cold," Merry said, trying to hold back laughter because that could topple the tower of Hobbits and a Human.

"If you're going to do something up there, Pippin, hurry it up," Frodo suggested. "This isn't easy." Just then, the door swung open once again, startling Sam and knocking the tower down. A man stood in the doorway, and behind him the monsters who had brought them there.

"Go," the man said, stepping inside and closing the door.

"What do you want?" Sam demanded, jumping to his feet and placing himself between the stranger and Frodo. Eomer drew his sword, and Merry and Pippin followed his lead.

The stranger just laughed. "It would be foolish to try, my friends," he said calmly. "If I but blow this," he added, reaching up and touching a whistle that hung around his neck, "I will have all the help I need."

"More monsters, I assume you mean," Eomer said, not letting his guard down.

"They're called gleems. I'm known as Confusion. I apologize for the circumstances of our meeting, King Eomer, but I had no choice. I am greatly in need of Rohan's aid."

"Then perhaps you'll answer a few questions."

"Anything."

"Where are we?"

"You're on an island. Specifically, the Snow-Capped Mountains on the Undiscovered Island."

"How original. Why did you bring us here?"

"I need your help."

"Be more specific, and we might be able to help you."

"This island is in danger. The elves here are trying to take over the whole island."

"The Elves are? There are Elves here?" Sam asked.

"Not the kind you're familiar with, Master Gamgee. A very different kind, indeed."

"Let me guess, they have a huge army, the situation is hopeless for you, and you seek the aid of the greatest warriors in Middle-Earth so we can destroy a second Ring of Power for you while you sail to the Lands Beyond the Sea?" Frodo asked suspiciously.

"You don't trust him, Frodo?" Merry asked.

"Not even a little, Merry. If he needed our help, he would've asked us, not kidnaped us."

"Oh, so that is what you think, Frodo Baggins?"

"How do you know all our names?"

"I know more than that. You live in the Shire, but you really haven't been there much recently. You were on a quest to destroy the Ring of Power, in a Fellowship of nine members: yourselves, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf, if I'm not mistaken. This is Eomer, recently crowned King of Rohan after the death of his uncle, Theoden. He met Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli while they were looking for you, Pippin and Merry, after the Fellowship was scattered and Boromir killed by the Uruk-hai who were sent by Saruman the White to capture the 'halflings' who had the Ring."

"Wow," was all Pippin managed to say. Merry's expression mirrored his friend's thoughts, and Frodo and Sam were equally surprised.

Only Eomer had an explanation: "Obviously, my friends, one of two things has happened. Either we have landed ourselves in the future, where our stories are still remembered, or he has captured someone else, as well, and they have told him all this."

"I find the second more likely," Frodo said.

"Yes, but let's not jump to conclusions, my friend," Eomer cautioned. "There may even be other possibilities."

Confusion alone was getting a good laugh out of the whole matter. Only one thing now could ruin his plan.

* * *

"Open your eyes," Radagast said. Gandalf did, wondering why Radagast had given the instruction instead of Peter. When he looked down, he got his answer. The old man had fainted. Even with Radagast's extra help, getting out of Middle-Earth like that wasn't easy.

"Why?" Bergil asked Avanwë, who was the closest. "Why is it so hard?"

"Because it isn't easy to defy the laws of the Valar, my friend, or those of nature. Even the Elves who sail over the Sea aren't normally permitted to return. For him to be able to do this at all is amazing."

"You said normally. Are Elves sometimes allowed to come back?"

"Once, a long time ago, when even I was very young. Did you know the Elves lived in the Lands Beyond the Sea for quite some time? Then Morgoth stole the Silmarils from Fëanor and Fëanor followed him back to Middle-Earth, with a great deal of other Elves, including his seven sons and his brother, Fingolfin."

"What?" Legolas exclaimed. "How do you know all that?"

"I was there. You still don't recognize me, do you? Neither did Elrond, at first, when he heard I was back in Middle-Earth."

"Livya!" Legolas exclaimed, finally recognizing the Elf. "You sailed over the Sea . . . ."

"Yes. A long time ago. As I said, Elves are occasionally allowed to come back."

"As fascinating as I find this, really," Gimli interrupted, not really fascinated at all, "we still have four missing Hobbits to find and _I_ would like to leave this forest as quickly as possible."

"Your friends aren't in the forest," Latano said.

"How do you know?" the Dwarf grumbled.

"The forest is constantly watched by the birds, and others," Noka answered for him. "They would have told us were anything amiss."

Radagast looked up from where he was trying to wake Peter. "The elves are right, Gimli," he confirmed. "They aren't here."

"Then where _are_ they and why are we here?"

"We are here because it's not easy to get out of Middle-Earth, let alone anywhere specific," Peter answered, still a little shaky. "I did the best I could. We're close to the southern border of the Unknown Forest. That's good enough."

"Good work, Peter," Morgan smiled, helping the old man to his feet. "You're right. This is close enough. We _could've _landed ourselves in Paris."

"Where?" Bergil asked.

"Never mind," Eric said before that conversation went any further. "Peter, are you all right? Can you walk?"

"I can try, Eric. That'll have to do."

"I guess it will."

"Follow me," Noka said, running off down the path. Legolas took off after him, as did Avanwë. The others elves soon followed, as did Elrond, Gimli. Aragorn, Bergil, and Eric, as well, tried hard to keep up with their Elven leaders. Faramir, Eowyn, Morgan, Radagast, and Gandalf lingered at the back of the line with Peter.

"Go on," Peter said. "I'll catch up. Wait at the edge of the forest. It's not far." Gandalf, Faramir, and Eowyn went on ahead. Morgan and Radagast stayed anyway.

* * *

"You remember me?" Avanwë asked, still keeping perfect time with Legolas.

"Barely," the Elf admitted. "You left when I was very young. I didn't think you'd come back. After all, my father . . . ."

"Banished me? Yeah, I know. Not the first time it's happened, and it won't be the last."

"You got kicked out of your home, too?" Noka asked.

"Yeah, though I wouldn't really call it my home."

"You live here, Noka?" Legolas asked.

"Sort of. Ever since we helped Athos escape the elves, we haven't been welcome in the village."

"That's putting it mildly," Balo laughed. "More than once, they almost got killed trying to go back for help. Finally, they all got themselves captured, and I got thrown out trying to rescue them."

"Stop here," Noka said. "We'll wait for the others." He and the other elves and Elves were the only ones already there. Soon, however, Bergil and Aragorn came running down the path, followed closely by Eric, Gandalf, and Gimli. Faramir and Eowyn were next. Moments later, Morgan, Peter, and Radagast followed them.

Gandalf could see it now; Peter was starting to weaken. He could barely walk, and was supported on either side by Morgan and Radagast, who had stayed behind in spite of Peter's insisting that he'd be all right. They knew him too well.

"Look up ahead. Is that it?" Bergil asked.

"Look at what?" Noka laughed. Even Elrond smiled. Sometimes it was easy to forget they had a blind elf with them.

"That tower in the mountains. Is that were they are?"

"Yes," Aragorn said. "I can feel it."


	8. The um Early Breaking of the Fello...

_Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is still not mine. Neither is the quote at the beginning of this chapter even though I have no clue whose it is; my math teacher likes to write quotes on her board and that is where I get most of these._

"_Behold the turtle; he only makes progress when he sticks his neck out."_

Chapter Eight

The . . . um . . . Early Breaking of the Fellowship

He hadn't felt it, Aragorn realized. He had been told. The wind had spoken, as clearly as his own voice. The wind, however, had spoken with the voice of another. The voice had been Boromir's. "They're there," he had said. "That's where they are, my king."

"You heard him, didn't you?" Faramir asked.

Aragorn nodded. "They're there, all right."

"You're sure?" Eowyn asked.

"I'm sure."

"Let's go, then."

"Hold up," Eric interrupted. "We can't just run up to the tower and demand they release your friends."

"Why not?" Bergil asked.

"We'd be captured, as well," Morgan explained. "That would do us no good."

"She's right," Avanwë said. "Legolas, you and I are the fastest, even on all this snow. Come with me to the tower and we'll see if we can't work something out with Athos."

"She'll never change," Elrond laughed as the two Elves took off. "Headstrong. Stubborn. Fangorn would say 'Hasty.'"

"What's with her and Legolas?" Bergil asked.

"Nothing," Gandalf said. "I know it looks like it, Bergil, but neither of them's the settle-down and romance type. They work well together because they have a lot in common."

"I'll see if I can help them," Radagast said.

"Can you catch up?" Gimli asked, well aware of how hard it was to keep up with Legolas.

"Need you ask?" Radagast smiled. "Haven't you ever heard the expression 'fast as an eagle?'"

"And he was telling _me_ to only use magic as a last resort," Gandalf laughed.

"H told you to 'zap' people as a last resort," Morgan corrected. "I have yet to see good old Radagast 'zap' anyone."

"Peter, are you all right?" asked Faramir, who had taken Radagast's place by his side.

"Fine," Peter said. "I just . . . . have a feeling I know what Athos will suggest."

"If he does, Peter, please don't . . . . ." Rona started.

"I'll do what I have to, Rona. You know that."

"I know. Just try not to get yourself killed in the process," Balo suggested.

"I'll try."

* * *

"This way a little more," Avanwë called to Legolas. "We have to stay in the shadows." Legolas nodded and followed Avanwë into the huge shadow of the mountain, keeping up perfectly.

"Now, there's no way of knowing what answer we'll get, if we even get one, so be ready for anything," Avanwë said, raising her bow. Legolas followed her lead.

Just then, an eagle landed in front of them. Of course, it wasn't really an eagle at all. It was Radagast, who changed back immediately to a recognizable form.

"Clever. Real clever," Avanwë sighed. "All right, then. If you wanted to come along so badly, _you_ do the honors."

"Very well," Radagast said with a slight bow to the Elves. He walked up to the door of the tower and knocked. His knock was answered within seconds, as if it had been expected. In the doorway stood a man who was most definitely Athos. He had brown-and-black hair a little past his shoulders and light brown eyes that mirrored the Wizard's won. Radagast's first impulse was that this man could be trusted, but he'd been more cautious ever having been tricked by Saruman. He wasn't deceived as easily.

"Radagast," Athos said, a little surprised.

"Hello, Athos," Radagast said evenly. "I expect you know why I'm here." He said 'I' instead of 'we' on purpose so as not to reveal that anyone else was with him. Athos, however, had already guessed the Wizard was not alone.

"You're here about the Hobbits and Eomer."

"Eomer's here?" Radagast was trying to hide his surprise, but not doing a very good job of it.

"Oh, you weren't expecting that?"

"Get to the point, Athos. What do you want?"

"Well, it's obvious what you want, so I'll be agreeable. A prisoner exchange, if you wish, but only three of them."

Radagast paused a second, and then nodded. He wasn't going to get anything better, that much was clear in the man's voice. "I'll be back," he said

"I'll be waiting."

* * *

"How could you agree to that?" Gimli demanded when Radagast, Legolas, and Avanwë returned with Athos' offer.

"It's the best we're going to get," Avanwë said calmly.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, actually, I do."

"How?"

"Enough, Gimli," Legolas said. "Avanwë is right. Now, the question is, 'Who?'"

"Athos would never agree to that unless it was part of some bigger plan," Eric interrupted. "We'll be right back where we started, no better, no worse."

"He's planning to send the gleems out," Avanwë said. "While we're still distracted. We'll have to warn the elves and dwarves here, as well."

"You have Dwarves here?" Gimli asked.

"Their elves are short enough," Legolas complained.

"Athos said three people?" Morgan asked.

"Three for three," Radagast confirmed.

"Then I suggest Legolas, Gimli, and myself," Aragorn said, speaking for all three of them.

"My friends, your fighting skills will be needed here," Avanwë insisted. "Legolas and I alone here are fast enough to make it to the dwarves on time, except perhaps Radagast, and I'm not sure if thy know him. They know me. They'll listen, but they'll also need help. Legolas and Radagast can provide that in plenty."

"What about Aragorn and me?" Gimli asked.

"You guys are some of the best warriors I've seen," Latano said. "The elves have needed help for a long time. You, Aragorn, Elrond, and Gandalf can go help them.

"Process of elimination, then," Morgan said. "Legolas, Gimli, Aragorn, Gandalf, Elrond, Radagast, and Avanwë are needed, but you've forgotten something, Latano. There are _two_ elf-villages, and the kytes, and not everyone knows where they are."

"I do," Gandalf said. "I will take Elrond with me to the northern village. Latano, you can take Gimli and Aragorn to the southern one."

"Gandalf, you forgot . . . . ."

"That you were banished? Not at all. You, out of the Woodland Wanderers, are the best at disguising yourself, if what Peter's told me is true, and they need a guide."

"Good," Morgan said. "Tandro, you, Rona, Balo, and Noka go and warn the kytes."

"What in Middle-Earth are kytes?" Gimli asked.

"No time for that," Morgan said, which was really just an excuse to not have to explain anything. "That leaves me, Peter, Eric, Bergil, Faramir, and Eowyn."

"Eowyn should go with Gandalf and Elrond," Faramir said. "She's a warrior, good as any."

"Bergil, you go with her," Morgan said. "I don't like where this is headed, but I suggested it. I volunteer to stay as Athos' prisoner."

"Me, too," Peter said calmly. "In my condition, I'd be of no help in a fight." Radagast started to object, but silenced himself. He knew Peter was right.

"I will stay, as well," Faramir volunteered. "I have no love for battles, and I can endure whatever Athos wants to do to me."

"He'll test that," Morgan warned.

"I assumed so, which is why I don't think a child like you should have to stay. Are you sure of your decision, Morgan?"

"I'm sure of it," Morgan answered confidently. "I know what I'm getting into, probably a lot better than you do, Faramir."

"Okay," Eric said. "What do I do?"

"Do what you think best, Eric," Peter answered. "Someone will need to be there for whoever Athos releases. Considering everyone else is going somewhere, that's you."

"You got it. We'll come back for you."

"I know you will."

"All right, people!" Aragorn called. "I never thought I'd _tell_ a fellowship to split up, but now I have to. Split up! We'll meet back here again when fate allows. Let's go!"

* * *

Okay, so Aragorn probably wouldn't really shout 'let's go,' but the 'when fate allows' thing makes up for a little modern language. :)


	9. The Right Choice

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR. Drat. The Woodland Wanderers are my friends. Scary.

* * *

"_Keep true, never be ashamed of doing right; decide what you think is right and stick to it."_

–George Eliot

* * *

Chapter Nine

The Right Choice

"Your friends should be back any minute, Athos told the Hobbits and Eomer. "You have a decision to make. I've agreed to let three of you go; I need two volunteers to stay, quickly."

"Give us a moment," Frodo said firmly.

"Very well." Athos left the room.

"We're in a strange place and we know no one," Frodo reminded the rest of the group. "The people who go free must be those most able to find a way to get the others out. Also, the ones who stay must be the least likely to give into whatever Confusion may offer. I suggest myself and Sam."

"With all due respect, Frodo," Merry said, "I don't like your decision at all. I, for one, will not leave this place while anyone else is here. I'll stay in Sam's place, if you're determined not to go."

"Oh, no you don't," Sam interrupted. "I'll not leave Mister Frodo here: I'm staying."

"Look at you," Eomer laughed. "One moment, we can't wait to get out of here and the next, we're arguing about who gets to stay!"

"Eomer's right. We can't _all_ stay," Pippin agreed.

"Well, look who said something smart for once," Merry laughed. "You're right, though, Pip. Sam and I will stay." Sam nodded his agreement.

"You done yet?" Athos asked, opening the door.

"Yes," Frodo said, standing up. "Sam, Merry, take care of yourselves. We'll be back when we figure out where we are and what we're doing."

Athos led Eomer, Frodo, and Pippin out of the dungeon and to the door of the tower. On the other side stood their three replacements.

"Faramir!" Pippin exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to save the rest of you," the steward answered calmly.

"Morgan?" Athos asked, as surprised as Pippin."

"The one and only," Morgan laughed, bowing slightly.

"Morgan, I can't. You're . . . . ."

"Your friend? I don't deny it. Yet I am also a Woodland Wanderer. What was it Aragorn said: 'The company shall all fare alike?' Same here, Athos."

"You know this man?" Eomer asked.

"Yes," Athos sighed. "Peter I expected, and Faramir I'd guessed, but I'd expected Legolas or some other Elf."

"He tried," Morgan smiled. "He tried, but this was a good excuse to practice my patience. I've been needing it."

"I shouldn't be surprised."

"No, you shouldn't," Peter smiled. "We've told you before."

"Yes, I know."

"Good."

* * *

"Dwarves, Avanwë?"

"Yes, Legolas, but don't worry. They're nothing like the ones in Middle-Earth. No beards." Both Elves laughed.

"This doesn't feel right," Legolas admitted. "I don't trust this Athos."

"Neither do I, but there's nothing we can do. They've made their choice."

"You'd think Peter, at least, would have more sense."

"What do you mean."

"I'm not about to believe they'll be gentler on him just because he's already hurt. And Morgan! She's just a child!"

"She can handle it. Besides, she's Athos' friend."

"That makes her a fool."

"Agree, but she sees something in him."

"Like what?"

"I'm not quite sure. I don't know him as well as they do. They've been on his tail trying to get him to stop ever since they succeeded with Eric."

"Eric used to work for him?"

"You catch on fast. Yes, he was his second-in-command for quite some time."

"Athos reminds me of Saruman."

"Oh, is that why you don't like him?"

"I'm not sure, though I can see why they think he might change. Saruman, even, came close."

"I know he did."

"Then what's to say Athos won't, too?"

"Saruman only almost did, but that'll have to do for now. 'Almost's seem to be all we ever have on this island."

* * *

"Gleems," Athos ordered, regaining his normal tone. "Take these three to the dungeon. See that they don't escape, but do nothing to harm them until I give the word."

Almost immediately, Faramir felt a violent blow strike his back. The force almost knocked him over, but Morgan broke his fall. "Watch out for that," she warned. "Let them catch you off-guard again, and you'll see the gleems' version of 'playtime' firsthand."

"Great," Faramir grumbled under his breath. "What was it he said about not hurting us?"

"Exactly that, my good fellow," Athos interrupted. "I merely gave you a warning not to try to resist."

"If you think I'm going to take it . . . ."

"I don't really care whether you take it or not, Faramir, son of Denethor. You'll end up in the same place either way." With that, he stormed off down the hall.

"Moody today," Peter commented with what was probably an attempt at laughter.

"Move, prisoners," one of the gleems ordered.

"Which way?" Morgan asked casually. Faramir had to try hard to hold back laughter. The situation couldn't easily get much worse, and Morgan was trying to be funny!

"You know the way," the gleem responded without laughter.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, pretending to be curious. A gleem stuck her leg roughly with his sword, and the teenager stumbled backwards, right into Peter. The pair fell to the ground.

"Everyone all right?" Faramir asked, helping the others to their feet.

"I've seen worse," Peter nodded. "Believe me, Faramir, they're going easy on us now, but only because Athos told them to. You'll see what I mean later."

"So what can we do?" the steward asked.

"Pray," Morgan said calmly. "Then do everything possible. If that won't work, try the impossible. If nothing works, leave it alone and put it back where it belonged in the first place–in God's hands. Illuvatar, I think the Elves call him, Father of All. I don't know how he's called in Gondor, but just hope and pray for the best."

Faramir smiled. If nothing else, he was in good company. He'd stumbled upon a young Believer.

* * *

"Those Elves are _tall_," Balo said, whistling to the trees. A horse flew down out of the sky. Balo mounted.

"Very observant," Noka laughed, jumping up easily behind her. "If I can tell anything by voice, yeah, they're a lot taller."

"Yeah, well, if that's their advantage, ours is knowledge of the territory," Tandro reminded them, mounting behind the others. "They have almost know idea what they're up against. Avanwë, yes. She's been here, and Radagast as well, but the others, save perhaps Elrond and Gandalf, don't know a squirrel's tail about this place."

"Well, there's not much we can do about that, is there?" Rona asked, jumping up in front. "We haven't the time to explain half of what we'd need to. Maybe after we've fought this battle and rescued their friends, we can figure out why they were captured in the first place."

"Agreed," Noka said. "Rainbow, let's go."

* * *

"How much farther?" Gimli complained.

"Not far," Latano assured him. "The village is very close, though I fear you two will be more welcome there than me. We're not considered friends there anymore, us Woodland Wanderers."

"Why?" Aragorn asked.

"Long story," the elf sighed. "To make it short, we helped Athos escape once."

"Why?"

"Even longer story, and I'm not the right person to tell it. Remind me after all this is over, and I'll show you."

"Why can't you . . . ?" Aragorn started to ask, but then noticed that the elf had stopped. They were close to the village. "Here," the ranger offered, taking a spare cloak out of his pack. "Put this on. Maybe they won't recognize you."

"They'll recognize my voice when I shout at you because I tripped over this long thing," the elf laughed, putting it on and casting the hood over his face.

Gimli almost collapsed from laughter. The elf looked like a young Aragorn, except for the grey eyes.

He was old, though, Aragorn knew. If there's one constant among Elves of all kinds, it's their immortality. More and more, Aragorn found himself trying to come up with the right word for the elf. A mirror? No, that wasn't it. He was in no way a reflection of Aragorn. Kindred? Yes, that was it. They were alike not only in looks but in spirit. Aragorn looked at Gimli, who nodded. "Yes, laddie, that's it," the look the Dwarf gave him was plain enough to say.

* * *

"Now what're we supposed to do?" Pippin asked. They were outside the tower, alone and confused.

"There's a forest to the north: that way," Frodo suggested, pointing away from the mountains and the tower. "Maybe someone lives there."

"Who's to say they're friendly?" Eomer asked.

"It's better than nothing."

"Actually, in this case, 'nothing' might be better," said a voice.

Pippin, Frodo, and Eomer turned around. Pippin drew his sword. "Who are you?" Eomer asked suspiciously.

"My name's Eric," the man said. "You can put that sword down . . . ."

"Pippin," the Hobbit finished. "This is my second cousin, Frodo, and our friend, Eomer." Pippin lowered his sword. "You're a little late. Your friends are already inside."

"I know," Eric said. "That was their choice, as it was Faramir's."

"What is this strange place?" Eomer asked.

"No time for questions. You were right about the forest, Frodo. People live there, and they're about to be attacked. Here. Elrond told me these are yours."

"My mithril coat! And Sting! Wait! Elrond is with you?"

"He's in the forest," Eric said. "Come with me. I'll explain what I can."

* * *

"I still don't feel right leaving Faramir to who-knows-what fate," Eowyn called after Gandalf.

"Eowyn, he wouldn't have put himself forward if he felt he couldn't handle it," Gandalf called back. "Now keep up."

"I know he can 'handle it,'" Eowyn admitted. "I just wish I was with him."

"We know how good a fighter you are, Eowyn," Elrond said, slowing down to match his pace with hers. "You're where you should be. He's where he should be."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

"Which way, Gandalf?" Bergil asked. The path had ended.

"Keep going straight," the Wizard answered, pulling his beard free from a branch.

"If you say so," Bergil replied.

"I don't remember the path stopping," Gandalf said to himself. "This will take us somewhere, but is it where we want to go?"

* * *

Muahahahahahahaha. And where _will_ it lead them? Muahahahahahahahaha.


	10. Of Lost Wizards, Polite Hawks, and Drago...

Disclaimer: For the hundredth time, I do not own Lord of the Rings.

_Changing legend into fact, _

_We shall ride into history._

_Turning myth into truth,_

_We shall surely gaze_

_On the sweet unfolding _

_Of an antique mystery._

_All will be revealed_

_On the trail we blaze._

–_The Road to El Dorado_

_(A/N: How do you get it to not space between lines of a song?)_

* * *

Chapter Ten

Of Lost Wizards, Polite Hawks, and Dragon's Lairs

"Morgan?"

Athos nodded. "She's the last person I expected, though I should really know better by now."

"Why?" The other voice was that of his second-in-command, Angelica, Eric's sister, and one of the best fighters Athos had ever known. She had long golden hair and light blue eyes that mirrored her brothers.

"I've been getting to know her and the rest of the Woodland Wanderers a little better."

"Peter's idea?"

Athos shook his head. "Morgan's. We have a lot in common."

"Like what?"

"We both like to run," Athos suggested meekly. That was how the whole thing had gotten started. Morgan ran cross-country at her school, and had gotten lost in the woods. She and the rest of the Woodland Wanderers had met up with Athos and they really got off on the right foot.

"Literally _and_ metaphorically," Angelica sighed. "What do you think this is going to accomplish?"

"I think I'm getting somewhere with them," Athos admitted.

"That's probably what they say about you."

"Well, then I'll just have to prove them wrong."

"How?"

"I think you know the answer to that."

"I think I do. Anything special?"

"You know my orders."

"Keep them alive."

"Bingo."

* * *

"Are we lost, Gandalf?" Bergil asked.

"I'm afraid so. My memory of these woods is dim, indeed. So much has happened since I was last here. I should've asked Radagast to come with me. He keeps up with what's going on here, if not so much in Middle-Earth sometimes."

"What should we do, Mithrandir?" Elrond asked. "The message must reach the elves."

"It shall. Bergil, Eowyn, follow our trail back and try to find the path. Elrond and I will continue in this direction. One of us will make it to our destination."

"Are you sure, my friend?" Elrond asked as Bergil turned and ran back to Eowyn. "Is splitting up wise?"

"Probably not. Let's hope that Eowyn and Bergil will find the elves. We must head elsewhere. I have sensed an unusual presence to the west."

"I, as well, but is it that important?"

"I fear it is." The wizard whispered something and the elf's eyes widened.

"How is that possible?" he asked.

"I don't know. It has lain dormant long, else we would have known, or someone else."

"Then you're right. We must hope for the best for Bergil and Eowyn."

"Come. We haven't any time to lose."

* * *

"The end of the forest!"

"Yes, Legolas, it is."

"I was sure the forest was larger than this. That wasn't more than a couple of miles."

"The forest has a way of doing that. There's no real way to measure distance. Where's Radagast?"

"Here," the Wizard called, flying down. "Sorry I'm late. I met a very polite hawk up there."

"You're right on time," Avanwë sighed, not quite comfortable with the Wizard's shape-changing habits. "We just got here."

"Oh, good," Radagast laughed, taking his regular form.

"I wish you would stop that."

"You think it a bit childish, my good Elf?"

"Well, yes," Avanwë admitted reluctantly. "This is serious."

"That it is, Avanwë, but you mustn't get _too_ serious or everyone will be able to tell exactly what you're going to do. You'll always do the logical thing."

"I'll try to remember that. Now, _you_ try to stay focused."

"Agreed. And you, Legolas, try to understand what's going on. It's about to get a lot stranger."

* * *

"Land here, Rainbow," Noka directed.

"That still amazes me," Balo admitted. "How did you know where we were?"

"The direction of the sun and the path of the wind," Noka smiled casually.

Rona grinned. Noka had come a long way from when he'd first lost his sight, and not just in his skill at telling directions and such. He'd grown, toughened, adapted to his new way of living. In the end, it had helped him.

The elves dismounted outside a large cave. Kytes live underground, in the dark, though they often come out at night and will do so during the day if the need is great enough.

"Stay here," Tandro instructed. "I'll go see if anyone's home."

"Funny, Tandro. Really funny."

* * *

"You're the _what_?" Merry asked.

"The Woodland Wanderers. We're here to help," Morgan said.

"Fine job you've done so far," Sam noted sarcastically.

"Why, thank you, Sam," Peter laughed. "We try."

"They've gotten three of us out," Merry reminded Sam.

"And three different ones _in_. What good did that do?"

"More than you know," Peter said mysteriously. "Your friends out there will be of more help than they would've been in here."

"What about you?" Merry asked.

"We might actually be of more help in here. I'll warn you three again, Faramir, Merry, and Sam. Be ready for anything. You don't know yet what you're up against."

As if in proof of the old man's warning, the door once again swung open. An army of gleems was on the other side. Merry drew his sword first. Morgan nodded, drawing her own, and Peter followed her lead. Faramir handed his sword off to Sam and drew his bow.

"Foolish, my friends," said a voice from behind the gleems.

"I know," Peter smiled. Then, to the others, "They won't kill us. They want us alive. Show them the same."

Faramir smiled, glad at least to follow those directions. Even in war, when it was necessary, he hated killing, and was glad to have found company of the same mind.

"You just don't back down, do you?" Athos asked.

"Nope," Morgan said. "You knew that already."

"Then you will be forced to cooperate."

"Where have I heard that before?" Peter asked with a laugh. "It didn't work then, and it won't work now."

"We'll see about that," Athos replied. "Gleems, take them away."

* * *

"So far, so good," Latano whispered. "No one's recognized me."

"We haven't found anyone," Gimli reminded him.

"They're watching us," Aragorn answered for Latano. "I can feel their eyes."

"Thank you, Strider," the elf smiled. "Finally, a human who doesn't question everything I feel."

"I was raised by the Elves. That might account for part of it."

"Really? I thought there was something familiar about you. Elves even from Middle-Earth have a distinct feeling about them: wise and sad, yet joyous and somehow majestic."

"Something familiar? Was one of the humans in your group raised by elves?"

"Peter was, yes, and Morgan may as well have been."

"And Eric?"

"He's human through and through. Yet his time on this island has changed him, in more ways than one."

"You lost me somewhere," Gimli interrupted. "What _are_ you talking about?"

Just then, there was a bird call: the sound of a robin. Latano returned it, changing the pitch but not the rhythm. "I'll have to answer that another time, Gimli," the elf said cautiously. "We have company."

* * *

"Strange is right," Legolas agreed when he saw the dwarf-village. Small houses made of stone and wood were scattered in every direction. Some had chimneys. Some simply had a hole in the roof. None were more than five feet tall.

Avanwë smiled mysteriously. She went up to one of the doors, bent down, and knocked. "Just a minute!" called a voice.

What answered the door was _not_ what Legolas had expected. It had no beard, and thus didn't look like a Dwarf, but it was no Hobbit, either. Its hair was straight and it wore shoes. In fact, Legolas realized, the dwarves of the island looked much like the elves. They were perhaps a little more muscular, but nothing more noticeable than that.

The dwarf who answered the door had sandy-colored hair almost to his shoulders. He had light grey eyes and looked a little surprised to see Avanwë. His name was Novi.

"Mavo! What a surprise! And Radagast! Now, who's this?" the dwarf exclaimed.

"Legolas," the Elf answered. "Who's Mavo?"

"I am," Avanwë laughed. "They call me that here."

"Oh. That doesn't sound Dwarvish. Not that that's a complaint, I mean. I much prefer that to all that khazad-stuff."

"It's not Dwarvish," Radagast said, trying hard to keep a straight face.

"I don't understand."

"The dwarves here speak the same language as the elves," said another dwarf, stepping out of the house. "Actually, the same_ two _languages: English, or the Common Tongue, as you call it, and our own language, which has never really had a name. I see you've already met my brother, Novi. My name's Naroma."

Other than their height, Novi and Naroma didn't look much like brother and sister. She had dark brown hair and dark brown eyes, and even slightly darker skin. Her hair was longer and wavier, and she was a lot less cautious around strangers, especially elves.

"Now, you three are here _why_?" Novi asked.

"To warn you," Radagast answered, finally catching his breath from laughter. "The gleems are coming."

* * *

"There's the path, Eowyn!"

"I see it. Come on."

"Gandalf and Elrond should have com back this way with us," Bergil said, smiling.

"Thy had no way of knowing which was right. We don't even know if this is the right path. The one we were on didn't go off that way; I remember."

"Well, let's follow it anyway."

"I agree. It might be the right path."

"If not to the village, then to some other place."

"Exactly. Like maybe a dragon's lair."

"Or an abandoned tower."

"Or a troll's cave"

Both were laughing by now, and quite unprepared for what was about to happen, for they were being watched.

* * *

Muahahahahahahaha. But who are they being watched _by_, that is the question, for whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of . . . wait, wrong story.


	11. Fear That Has Said Its Prayers

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine. Neither are the weird little quotes at the beginning of the chapters.

"_Courage is fear that has said its prayers." _

–Karl Barth

"_I think a servant of the Enemy would look fairer and feel fouler."_

–Frodo Baggins, The Fellowship of the Ring

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Fear That Has Said Its Prayers

_"Roads go ever ever on_

_Over rock and under tree_

_By caves where never sun has shone,_

_By streams that never find the Sea . . ."_

"The only person I know who would sing at a time like this," Elrond laughed.

"Yours truly," Gandalf said, bowing. "I don't think it's too much farther."

"I feel it, too, but some strange presence is between us and our goal."

"I guess that depends on what you mean by 'strange presence.' Certainly nothing found in Middle-Earth. Nothing you would be familiar with, my friend."

"Then what?"

"Something I've only been told of. Nightwatchers."

"Nightwatchers? What are they?"

"Daëlin wasn't really able to give me a good description, but they're nothing to be afraid of unless you mean harm to the forest."

"Are you sure? The name doesn't sound very . . . . welcoming."

"It's not supposed to. They're normally not very acceptive to strangers. Trouble is, we'll have to get past them."

"There's no way around?"

"No quick way, and I'm not sure there even _is_ one. Come. It's no more dangerous than the Mines of Moria."

"Oh, yes. For a second I forgot your last-resort paths tend to have, shall we say, not-so-good results. Very well. You're the one who knows this place."

"Hardly. If you wanted a guide, you should've brought Aragorn."

"He's been here, too?"

"No, but it's his kind of place, his kind of unknown danger we're rushing into."

"Oh, great. That kind."

Gandalf laughed, and they started off towards the west side of the Unknown Forest.

* * *

"They sure get together quickly," Legolas noticed. In the barely two minutes since they had informed Novi and Naroma of the gleems' plans, the whole village had gathered, the warriors had been told of the situation, and the others dismissed. Despite Legolas' gift for languages, Avanwë had been forced to translate most of what they were saying.

"That they do," Radagast laughed. The entire army (actually not more than maybe twelve dozen) was ready.

To Legolas, however, they looked totally unprepared. Though they were armed with swords and, a few of them, bows, none of them wore any kind of armor or even carried a shield, Radagast, Legolas, and Avanwë included. Actually, of their group, only Gimli, Aragorn, Eowyn, Elrond, and Bergil had worn armor. Legolas and Avanwë were quick enough to be able to fight without any, and Gandalf needed none. Radagast, well, he'd sort of . . . forgotten . . . . on purpose. He hadn't ever seen any use for it, and had figured on being left with Peter somewhere in the forest. They hadn't planned on Athos accepting anything, though Radagast had known Peter would volunteer if he did.

"This is worse than at Helm's Deep," Legolas complained. "The only thing that makes it better is these people have experience. At least the Humans had sense enough to wear armor."

"You should talk," Radagast laughed.

"I'd wear some if they _had_ any and I thought it would _fit _me and I thought it would be any good!" the Elf explained in a rather angry tone of voice.

"In any case, Legolas, you're right," Avanwë said. "At least, you would be, if gleems were Uruk-hai. They're not. Confusion, or Athos, or whatever, doesn't want us dead."

"Well, that's something of a relief. Wait. I know where this is going. We don't want _them_ dead, either, do we?"

"That's right," Radagast nodded.

"I'm fine with that," Legolas agreed, "but I don't think Gimli will be."

* * *

Gimli, of course, hadn't yet found out. He was back in the forest with Aragorn and Latano.

"Lower your guard," Latano said. "It's them."

Gimli reluctantly did as the elf directed, and even Aragorn let his guard down.

"Se emav ravo otan Ranarulo Nesapo!" called a voice.

"Battle cry?" Gimli guessed.

"Sounded more like a greeting to me," Aragorn suggested.

"Mixture of the two," Latano laughed. "Depends on who you're talking to." Aragorn noticed that the elf had changed his accent a little, as well as the tone of his voice. It was to fool the elves, of course, and it worked. They took him to be a messenger from the other village, his companions strange but definitely friends.

As for the news that they didn't want to kill the gleems, Aragorn took it better than Gimli, but even Gimli took it better than Legolas had thought he would. Latano, of course, was used to it, but Gimli wondered whether that could be the reason the gleems kept attacking, why their numbers were so many, why the elves kept losing.

* * *

Faramir struggled to open his eyes. He couldn't move, and his head ached terribly, but he was alive.

They had fought hard, but defeat was inevitable, even for them. With one of them already wounded badly and another using a sword far too big for him, they hadn't had much of a chance.

'Boromir would've said there was a chance,' Faramir thought, trying to make sense of the dark shapes and the even darker background that were all he could see. It was as if some dark cloth had been draped between him and reality.

Then the young steward realized why. He was blindfolded. He had been trying to see through thick black cloth, and had all but succeeded. _'You see. Victory is always possible, brother,'_ said the voice in his mind. He'd grown used to hearing it faintly, but this time, it was loud and clear, and he could almost see his brother's face. For all the effort it took him to smile, it was worth it.

However, it also tipped off Angelica, who was sitting nearby, that he had at last regained consciousness.

"It's about time," Faramir heard a voice say. He let out his breath slowly, trying to keep his control. It was no wonder his brother's voice had been so clear. Angelica sounded like she was shouting ten times louder than even a normal shouting voice.

He had no time to recover. Almost instantly, he felt a sharp pain in his left let, right below the knee and a little to the right. He tensed his leg, but that only made it worse, so he tried his best to relax it again.

"You catch on fast," Angelica observed. "Gleems, he's all yours. You know Confusion's orders." There were times, though, when Angelica despised those orders,–to keep the prisoners alive–though she knew why they were given. She left, making sure to close the door behind her.

The pain only got worse, and spread until Faramir wasn't even sure where it was coming from anymore. He shut his eyes, and saw what he had hoped to see. It was his dream from the night before: the light with the small island. He focused on the small patch of darkness, concentrated on making it bigger in his mind. It grew and grew, enveloping the steward in cool shadow. The pain was still there, but not the blind confusion. This was bearable, endurable, not because it _had _to be, but because it _could _be.

* * *

"Ronosa!" Tandro called into the cave. "Ronosa, are you there?"

"Yeah, be there in a moment," the kyte called back. Presently, a bear-like creature appeared at eh entrance to the cave. He was short, as are all kytes, not more than two feet tall. Nonetheless, one of the constant realities of the Undiscovered Island is that you can't judge anyone by their height. Kytes are warriors when they have to be, and Tandro knew this, traveler that he was.

"What is it, my friends?" Ronosa asked. "Where are the others–Latano, Eric, Peter, and Morgan?"

"That's why we're here," Noka said. He then proceeded to explain everything the best he could in the shortest amount of time, which basically meant saying, "We split up. The gleems are going to attack, and we need your help."

* * *

"Morgan, I don't want to have to do this."

"I know you don't, Athos," the teenager answered as calmly as she could. Like her companion from Gondor, she had awoken blindfolded and tied to a chair. Unlike Faramir, however, she had been expecting just that.

"You're not making this easy," the gleems' leader sighed.

"What would make it easy?" Morgan asked, trying to move her arms a little. The ropes tying her wrists to the chair's armrests were a little too tight. The gleems had made sure of that.

"Why won't you listen to reason?"

"Maybe because your idea of 'reason' is far too nutty."

"Are you calling me insane?"

"No. I'm only saying you're confused. I believe there is always a way, other than violence, to accomplish your goals, to achieve your dreams."

"You're starting to sound like Xavier."

"And you sound like Magneto. What's your point?"

Athos' only reply was a pair of rolled eyes, which he'd conveniently forgotten Morgan couldn't see. There was no point, of course. Morgan had been _trying_ to sound like Xavier, so she could say he sounded like Magneto. Taking advantage of the silence her question provided, she asked another question. "What have you done with the others–Merry, Sam, Faramir, and Peter."

"So concerned for others, are we?"

"I learned it from Peter. Well, where are they?"

"I left your Hobbit friends from Weirdoland in the dungeon. Peter and Faramir are close by."

Morgan fought hard to control her temper. She'd been right, unfortunately. The gleems wouldn't go easy on Peter. She was just glad he'd decided to leave the Hobbits alone, though only Athos would call the Shire 'Weirdo land.' Then again, if there was ever someone Athos had been able to have a relaxed, almost normal conversation with, it was Morgan. She relaxed a little. This would be easier knowing Merry and Sam were, at least for the moment, relatively safe.

* * *

At that moment, however, Merry and Sam would've said they were anything but safe. Still searching for a way out of the dungeon, they had still found nothing.

"Want an apple, Merry?" Sam offered, trying to cheer his friend up.

"No, thanks."

"It's not like you to pass up a meal."

"I'm worried about the others."

"The 'others' being Frodo, Pippin, and Eomer, or the 'others' being our 'guests,' Faramir, Peter, and Morgan?"

"Both, I guess. What's goin' on, anyway. Why did they leave us here and take the others? Why not all of us?"

"I don't know, Merry, but starving yourself won't help anything."

"Fine. Throw me an apple. I'm going to try the door again."

* * *

"How can we trust this man?" Eomer asked Frodo in a whisper.

Frodo sighed. The last time he'd heard that, it had ben Sam complaining about Aragorn. Eric was different, though. He didn't have the ranger's wild appearance, but seemed colder in a different way. Could this be what he'd meant by 'seem fairer and feel fouler? Frodo wasn't sure they _could_ trust him, but what other choice did they _have_?

"He could be working for Confusion," Eomer continued. "He could be leading us into a trap."

"What do you suggest?"

"Ask him to explain more. He said he'd explain what he could, but all he's said is that those monsters are trying to take over the world and that we're trying to stop them."

A few paces in front of them, Eric sighed. There wasn't much more he could've said. Anything else would've meant getting bombarded with questions, and he wasn't in the mood for answering what he knew they would be. He turned, motioned to the others to hurry, and continued on into the forest, picking up his pace a little to get further ahead.

"Eric?" Pippin asked. The youngest Hobbit had caught up.

"Yeah."

"I have a few questions."

"I probably don't have answers that make sense."

"Can I ask them anyway?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Did you used to work for Confusion?"

Eric stopped short. "How on Earth did you know _that_?" he demanded.

"Boromir. I can't explain it. I keep hearing his voice."

"Then yes, yes I did," Eric said, nodding and starting to walk again. "No one's ever guessed it that quickly before."

"Guessed what?" Eomer asked. Eric had been louder than he'd thought.

"Nothing," Eric said immediately.

Pippin looked up questioningly. "Why didn't you tell him?" the Hobbit asked.

"He already doesn't trust me. You think it'll help if I tell him I used to work with our enemies?"

"Well, no, I guess not."

"What were your other questions? You said you had a few."

"Oh, yes. Where're we going?"

Frodo had been listening well enough to hear that, and couldn't help smiling. When Pippin had last asked that, it had been back in Rivendell, and Elrond had been almost ready to kill him. Gandalf, though, had insisted that they wanted nine _live_ members of the Fellowship.

"I'm not quite sure myself," Eric admitted.

"Confusion said there were elves here."

"Well, that's one thing he told you that's true. What else did he say?"

"That the elves were trying to take over the world."

"That's Athos, all right. Always reversing the roles."

"Athos?"

"It's his real name."

"Oh. Where, exactly, is this island?"

"You see, that, I'm not sure how to explain to you because _I_ don't know exactly where Middle-Earth is."

"What do you mean?"

"Strange, I'm not quite sure what I mean. I like you, Pippin. You can sure give a guy amnesia. You ever heard of a place called the United States?" he asked before the Hobbit asked what amnesia was.

"No. You ever heard of the Shire?"

"Not until today."

"That's more than I can say about the . . . 'United States,' was it?"

"That's right. Well, when we get everything else figured out, I'll see if I can't so something about that, too."

"Great!"

"You may not think so once you see the place, my peace-loving companion," Eric laughed. "Boy, if you think this _island_ is a mess . . . ."

* * *

"Glorfindel, what's wrong?" Erestor asked.

"Nothing, mellon nin. Just thinking."

"You wanted to go with them."

Glorfindel nodded. "Elrond and I couldn't both go, though, and he deserves it. It's been so long since he left Imladris, save for his recent trip to Gondor."

"Why couldn't you both go?"

"Someone had to stay here."

"What about me?" Erestor asked, pretending to be hurt.

"I didn't think of that. In any case, it's too late."

"Possibly not."

"What're you saying?"

"There might be a way to get you where you want to go."

"You can do that?"

"I? No, but there _is_ someone who can, someone who is at this time very close to Rivendell."

"Who?"

"Tom Bombadil."

* * *

Muahahaha. Everyone's getting mixed up in this, aren't they. :)

See? Lack of reviews will not stop me from writing.


	12. Aaaaaahhhhhh! What is the Author Doing ...

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine

"_If you want to enjoy the rainbow, be prepared to endure the storm."   
_–Warren Wiersbe

* * *

_"The stars at night are big and bright,   
__Deep in the heart of Texas.   
__The prairie sky is wide and high,   
__Deep in the heart of Texas . . . ."_

"Would you cut that out already? That must be the tenth time you've sung that verse!"

"Eleventh. I'm sorry, Susan. I can't get it out of my head."

"I know you can't, Samuel. Otherwise, you would've stopped by now."

"I can't help thinking it means something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. The voice in my head isn't mine. It's as if someone else wants me to hear it, but why that, of all songs? We're not even _in_ Texas."

"Whose voice is it?"

"I'm not quite sure."

The two young teenagers were at the park, playing tennis but not really paying attention to the score or even to the ball. They presently had two balls lodged in the fence, five that had gone over the fence, and one stuck in the tree next to the fence. They had been playing for ten minutes.

Samuel was the first to notice a strange visitor coming down the path to the park. His long golden hair blew with the wind and his dark green robes marked his as a stranger.

Susannodded, and the two ran up to greet the stranger. He noticed them too late to do anything. Still a little startled by where he was, he'd forgotten to cover his ears.

Only Samuel, however, noticed before the Elf reacted. He nodded his understanding and Glorfindel relaxed. He wasn't going to call the news and announce a new alien species that had pointed ears. Susan would've, so Samuel said nothing to his friend.

"My name's Susan," she said. "Are you lost?"

"Actually, I am," the elf admitted. "I'm Glorfindel."

"Samuel," the boy said, shaking the Elf's outstretched hand.

"What strange place _is _this?"

"Detroit, Michigan," Susan said.

"The Untied States," Samuel added.

Glorfindel groaned. "I thought so. Thanks a lot, Tom. Wonderful! I was supposed to be sent to the Undiscovered Island, not the United States!"

"The Undiscovered Island? You know of it?" Samuel asked.

"I'm told that's where my friends went."

"Well, you're off by quite a bit," Susan observed.

"I noticed. Have you any way to get there?"

"Nope," Samuel shrugged. "How'd you get _here_?"

"A friend of mine named Tom Bombadil, but he wouldn't come with me. Said something about having to collect water-lilies."

Samuel smiled, but Susan just looked confused.

"So what can we do?" Glorfindel asked.

"Not much," Susan admitted.

"Close your eyes," Samuel said. "I can try this."

* * *

"It's dark," Elrond said, shivering.

"I warned you."

"Yes, you did, Mithrandir. I should've listened."

"Nonsense. You're doing fine."

"How much farther?"

"Quite a ways."

"They haven't attacked yet."

"Don't say anything, and they might not."

It was too late. Beside him, Gandalf heard Elrond collapse. He tried a blast of light from his staff, but all remained dark. Then he heard a quiet voice in his ear. Gandalf nodded, willingly closing his eyes. "Take us there," he agreed.

* * *

"Open your eyes," Samuel said. Nothing had happened. They were still at the park. "Oops," Samuel laughed. "It was worth a try."

"Now what?" Susan asked.

"Let's show Glorfindel around. There's nothing we can do about the Undiscovered Island or his friends now."

Glorfindel sighed. 'The boy is right,' he thought. 'I should stop worrying. Elrond can take care of himself.'

"Okay," he said out loud. "Where should we go?"

* * *

"Where are we?" Elrond asked, a little shaken.

"It might help if you opened your eyes, mellon nin."

"Funny, Mithrandir. Real funny." He _did_ open his eyes, though, and, to his surprise, could actually see. They were on the border of the forest, near a log cabin.

"We're on the very western side of the forest," Gandalf said in answer to Elrond's question.

"Are we close?"

"Very. In fact, I believe it may be in the cabin."

* * *

"Peter, wake up," a faint voice called. He didn't want to. He wanted to stay in the grip of unconsciousness as long as he could. Yet he knew he couldn't. Peter knew that call. Someone needed his help.

Specifically, it was Merry. He and Sam were trying to wake both Peter and Faramir. Morgan hadn't returned yet.

"Wh . . .what?" Peter heard Faramir say. "Uh . . .where am I?"

"Yeah! He's alive!" cheered Merry.

"Please . . . not so loud," Faramir groaned. "Where's Morgan?"

That got Peter to open his eyes. "Well, well," Sam laughed. "Look who's up. I don't know where she is, Faramir."

"I shouldn't have let here come," Peter sighed. "Athos will be especially hard on her. She's his friend."

"That doesn't make sense," Merry said.

"I know it doesn't, but it's the way he is. She'll be fine, though. Her strength has always been of will instead of body."

"What does he want from us?" Faramir asked.

"Our help, more than anything," Peter said. "He thinks if he pushes us hard enough, we'll give in and join him. That mustn't happen."

"It won't," the steward assured him.


	13. Courage Lives, and so does Hope

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. I am not JRR Tolkien. Too bad.

"_A determined soul will do more with a rusty monkey wrench than a loafer will do with all the tools in a machine shop."  
__–_Robert Hughes

**Chapter Thirteen  
Courage Lives, and so does Hope**

* * *

"Friends of the Woodland Wanderers," Tova whispered high in the trees.

"How can you tell?" asked Nora, a fellow nurse and scout for the elves.

"You, of all people, should know. Your brother's one of them!"

"Don't remind me."

"The tall one, at least, isn't from around here. She looks like Angelica."

"She's not. I can hear her voice. Strange accent, though. I'll go see what they're doing here." Before Tova could stop her, Nora dropped to the ground in front of Eowyn and Bergil.

The two humans were shocked, to say the least, but Bergil managed a "Who are you?"

"My name's Nora," the elf replied. "Who are _you_?"

"Bergil and Eowyn," the boy said. "Are you an elf?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Nora replied. "Can I assume that means you have a message, perhaps from my brother and a few friends of his, or did you get here on your own?"

"We were not alone," Eowyn admitted.

"That means you split up?"

"Yes," Eowyn said, "and we _do_ have a message. The gleems, whatever they are, are going to attack."

"I was afraid of that," Tova called from the trees. Come on. We'll take you to the village."

* * *

Meanwhile, at the other village, Aragorn was little more impressed with the elves that Legolas had been with the dwarves. They had only short bows, a foot tall at most, and, though their aim was good, the arrows didn't get much momentum from so short a bow. They were clearly designed for close-range shooting.

Also, their numbers were few: two dozen at the most, including Latano, Aragorn, and Gimli. Latano explained that most of the elves lived in the other village, and that there was absolutely no time for help to come. Aragorn had been about to argue when Latano said that, at most, they had five minutes before the gleems attacked.

Aragorn was devastated. _Five minutes_?!? How could they get everything ready in _five minutes_?!? It was impossible! Wasn't it?

But then his own words came to his ears. "There is always hope." They'd survived at Helm's Deep and at the Pelennor fields. They'd survived the War of the Ring. They could survive this.

"Do you elves have a leader?" the ranger asked Latano.

"Not exactly," the elf explained. "Mostly all the leader does is do whatever elven law tells him to do. Also, we have a different leader every two weeks or so. So, no, not really."

"Wonderful."

"Well, you're the kind here," Gimli reminded him.

"Oh, no. I'm the King of _Gondor._ I know next to nothing about this place, and nothing about gleems. If I took charge now, we'd all be in trouble."

"Can't get much worse," Latano pointed out.

Aragorn paused a minute. The elf was right. In fact, it couldn't get _any_ worse. "Fine," he agreed reluctantly. "Warriors!" he called to the elves, with a forcefulness and dignity in his voice that made them all turn. "Get in pairs. We're easy targets separately. Guard each others' backs and work together! Don't split up!"

Latano grinned as he joined a young elf and carefully showed him a better way to hold his bow. No one objected to a word Aragorn had said, the plan was so simple. The ranger drew Anduril. Gimli handled his axe impatiently. The two exchanged a knowing glance. Sometimes waiting was the worst part of the battle.

* * *

"Ready?" Tandro asked.

"Ready," Ronosa confirmed. The army of kytes stood ready outside the caves.

"I hope the others are okay," Balo said, but she sounded worried, not hopeful.

"That's a lot of people," Noka smiled. "Better pick one or two people to hope are okay."

"Funny, Noka, you're real funny," Rona groaned.

"Thank you," the elven comedian laughed.

Balo smiled. She especially hoped her uncle was okay. He was the only real family she had left. Also, she'd managed to forge a bond of sorts with Morgan, maybe because of their age, maybe because they both thought of the Woodland Wanderers as a second family now, a family that actually understood them, backed them up, and made them really feel at home.

* * *

"What Elf used to live here?" Elrond asked in amazement. The cabin certainly looked Elvish. It had an open window, an open door, and a roof that could open. It was made completely out of wood.

"From what I've heard," Gandalf said, "his name was Aramis, and he was no Elf. He was Athos' brother."

"Was?"

"He's dead."

"Who lives here now?"

"Besides his ghost?" Gandalf laughed. "No one."

"Funny, Mithrandir."

Elf and Wizard cautiously entered the cabin. There was nothing unusual. A large box was in one corner, a pile of books in another. "In there," Gandalf said, motioning to the box.

Elrond opened it. Another book was on top, titled _The Bible_. Gandalf looked at it curiously and then set it down gently on the wooden floor. Underneath a Crucifix, a Rosary, and a toothbrush was a small picture in a hand-carved wooden frame.

It was a hand-drawn portrait of two young boys. The one on the left had the most piercing light brown eyes Elrond had ever seen. Though they belonged to a child, wisdom as in them, and sadness, and sight that could see beyond what the eye could perceive. Brown and black hair rain past the boy's shoulders. The other, most likely his brother, had long hair of every color ever seen. His eyes were a strange mixture of green, brown, blue, and grey. His skin, too, was all different colors, unlike his brother's, which was light.

Gandalf turned the picture over. On the back was written,

"_Courage lives, and so does hope,  
__On the Sea in our small boat._

_We know the joy, we know the pain,  
__We know the sun, the wind, the rain._

_The stars a path will brightly show,  
__As thru' the wind and waves we go._

_Courage lives, and so does hope,  
__On the Sea in our small boat."_

Underneath the poem was a picture of a small sailboat about to be engulfed by a huge wave. The Big Dipper shone overhead, the North star the only guide the ship had. Underneath this, in smaller letters, was written, "In memory of what might have been and hopes of what yet may be. –Father Aramis Oak Brown."

"Amazing," Gandalf commented, then gently laid the picture with the other items. Underneath this was a book called _The Three Musketeers_, a model ship, a sword, a pair of sunglasses, a strange-looking candle, a box of matches, and a blanket.

Gandalf nodded to Elrond, and the Elf lifted the blanket.

* * *

"Avanwë?"

"Yeah, Legolas?"

"Total honesty, please. Is it even possible for us to win this?"

"Total honesty? We've never won, but neither have they. They've withdrawn, but only because they want us alive."

"Then . . . why do you keep fighting?"

"In the hope that someday we will win, maybe. Possibly to show that we haven't given up yet, and that we won't. We might be defeated some day, but we won't surrender."

"I hate to break up the party, you two," Radagast interrupted, "but . . . the gleems are here! Overhead!"

* * *

"You'll have to really watch your back this time, Balo," Noka warned.

"I've fought gleems before."

"Not in open territory. There's almost no cover here, no trees we can use as shields. If push comes to shove, we can use the caves for safety. The kytes have tunnels there the gleems know nothing of. It's dark, but it's safe."

"You know I hate the dark."

Noka nodded. "So did I. Latano'll tell you I couldn't stand it. Wouldn't listen to anyone with words of encouragement, even him."

"You tell her," Rona said.

"It took Peter's example to show me I could get along fine without my sight. I was amazed at how easy he made it seem, and how easy it _was_ when I tried."

"Hold it . . . Peter's not blind," Balo said.

"He was at the time. Balo, look. I know you don't particularly care for Peter. I know you blame him for our getting thrown out of the village, but it's the choice we all made." Then, he heard a soft voice in his head and nodded, adding, "It is the risk we all took."

"Yeah, well, here comes another risk to take," Tandro said, pointing at the sky. Noka didn't need anyone to tell him. A sharp pain at the back of his head and the beating of wings told him plenty. The gleems had arrived.

* * *

"Small army," Eowyn commented.

"Well, what'd you expect?" Nora demanded.

"A big one," Bergil said matter-of-factly.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you."

"Quite all right," Eowyn said. "The number doesn't matter as long as they're good."

"They are," Nora said, "and here's their chance to prove it! Here come the gleems!"

* * *

"Pacing, mellon nin, will not get the gleems here faster."

"You catch onto languages fast, Latano," Aragorn commented.

"I try."

"Well, try this one, then," Gimli suggested, pointing his axe at the creatures appearing in the sky. "Baruk khazad! Khazad ai-menu!"

* * *

"Where now, Eric?" the youngest Hobbit asked.

"Wherever we can get to," their guide answered.

"That seems a little vague," Eomer called from the back.

"Very observant," Eric noted. "I know, my friends, it _is_ a little vague, but it has to be. We really have nowhere to go."

"I thought you said there were Elves here," Frodo said. "That should be safe."

"You're right, it should be, but it's not. They're not the elves you're familiar with, Frodo. They're less friendly to . . . people like me."

"Oh, great," Eomer commented.

"Well, would you three rather go on alone?"

"No, but I _would_ like some explanation as to why they don't like you."

"Story for another time."

No sooner had he finished saying that, however, than there was a shriek overhead. "Drop!" Eric called to the two in back as he pulled Pippin to the ground.

"Where were they goin'?" Pippin asked once they'd all passed.

"I don't think you want the answer to that."

"We can't just stay here and do nothing," Eomer insisted.

Eric nodded. "You're right. We'll head for the closest elf-village, but don't expect a warm welcome."

* * *

The words were flowing. The voice was gentle, singing softly in a language Morgan could scarcely understand. In fact, the little she could make out above the pounding in her own head didn't make much sense at all. She caught something about stars and something about birds, but that was it. She didn't care. The tune was soft and low, and little sad, just the way she liked it.

Opening her eyes, the teenager was surprised. The song hadn't been a part of her dream, like she'd thought. It was Faramir, trying in his own way to wake her up. She nodded. Faramir finished the chorus and then stopped. "Are you okay?" the steward asked.

"More or less. You guys?"

"Good enough. Still haven't found a way out."

Morgan smiled. "I think I may have one."

* * *

Hmmm . . . a plan. Muahahahahaha.

**Cry Baby – **huh?


	14. ShowOffs and Monster Contests

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine.

"_In any contest between power and patience, bet on patience."  
_–W. B. Prescott

**Chapter Fourteen  
Show-offs and Monster Contests**

**

* * *

**

"Why would Aramis have had a Palantir?"

"I don't know, Elrond, but this _is_ one of the seven Seeing Stones. There can be no doubt."

"How long has it been unused?"

"Only Athos would know that. Or Peter. He's the only one who comes here often. Perhaps he has used it."

Elrond shook his head. "If he had used it recently, Saruman would have known, as would Denethor, and Sauron."

"Who is to say they did not?"

"Sauron? Wouldn't he have thought this a much easier place to conquer? No Elven magic, no Elven Rings, no King of Gondor to stop him. He would have attacked here, as well, had he known of this place."

"Maybe that was next."

"Possible, but doubtful. And if Peter and the others had known what was going on, would they not have come to our aid?"

"True, but they have their fair share of enemies here."

"Why does it matter now, anyway, Mithrandir? Sauron is defeated."

"Their enemies are not."

"So, we're going to get involved."

Elrond and Gandalf shared a smile. Gandalf carefully replaced the Palantir in the box, and then the other items. "Let's go," he said.

* * *

"His name is Todd. He's a cook here," Morgan explained. "He's on our side, and he's a spy for us. He should be able to get us out without blowing his cover." 

"So all we need is a way to tell him we need help?" Faramir asked.

"That's right," Peter said. "Anyone know Morse Code?"

"What's Morse Code?" Sam asked.

"Forget it, anyway," Morgan said. "Todd doesn't know it. He has a good heart, but he's not exactly Einstein."

"Einstein?" Faramir asked.

"Forget it. We need a way to get the gleems in here. They'll open the door. One or two of us will have time to make a break for it. Gleems aren't smart."

"Whoever goes will have to know the way to the kitchen," Peter said. "I admit I don't, and I wouldn't be fast enough, all things considered. Morgan?"

"I think I know the way, and I think I'm fast enough. I run cross-country, remember."

"I'm with you, Morgan," Sam said. "I know food. Potatoes, especially."

"Then you're in the right place. Potatoes are Todd's speciality. One of them. He also makes good stew."

Sam grinned. Maybe after they escaped, they could have a good long whatever-meal-it-was-time-for-by-now.

"Morgan, I know you run, but not in this condition. Are you sure you can do this?"

"If I can't, Sam at least will get out. I know you don't want me to get hurt, Peter, but I'm willing to take the same chances as anyone else in this dungeon, even you. I can do this."

"Yes, Nemo," Peter laughed. "Now we just need a way to get the gleems in here."

Merry smiled. "I think I have an idea."

* * *

"Are you _sure _you've never been bowling before?" Susan asked Glorfindel, who had bowled all strikes and spares so far. "My _dad_ doesn't bowl this well!" 

"It's an easy game, really. All you do is aim the ball and roll it."

"It's the aiming most people have trouble with," Susan whispered as Samuel's ball bounced off the bumpers a few times and knocked down only two pins

"You haven't exactly done any better!" Samuel called back, laughing. "I bowl better left-handed than you do right!"

"Samuel, you're left-handed anyway," Susan laughed, rolling her eyes.

"You are?" Glorfindel asked. The Elf had been switching hands every turn, driving Susan nuts.

Samuel nodded. "Your turn, Susan."

"You know who I am, don't you?" Glorfindel asked as the teenager sat down next to him.

Samuel nodded again.

"I met your friends briefly," the Elf said. "Good people"

"Yeah, if you can see past the craziness and the self-inflicted hardships, I suppose so," Samuel joked.

"Elves do that naturally. At least, some of us."

"Why were they in Middle-Earth in the first place?"

"Four of our friends, Hobbits, had been captured. They came to help us."

"Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin?"

"Well, _someone _knows his Middle-Earth history."

"You have no idea."

"Glorfindel, you're up," Susan sighed. "What are you two talking about, anyway."

"Middle-Earth," Samuel said quickly before Glorfindel could say something different.

Susan smiled. "Finally found someone who understands what you're talking about?"

Samuel nodded. "Totally."

Glorfindel raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as he picked up his bowling ball. Now was not the time for questions.

* * *

"Fourteen!" Gimli announced. 

"Fourteen _what_?" Latano demanded from across the field.

"Fourteen monsters he's gotten to fly away," Aragorn explained. "It's this never-ending contest between him and Legolas."

"Yeah. Hope that pointy-eared Elf is counting," Gimli laughed.

* * *

"Fifteen!" Legolas called up to Avanwë. The elf was pulling the string on his bow back only halfway so the gleems were only wounded and could still fly away. 

"I'm on sixteen!" Avanwë called back.

"You and those bows!" Radagast called to both of them. "Keep up, will you? I'm on eighteen!" he added, whacking another gleem with his staff.

Legolas grinned as a gleem's arrow met his own in the air. "They're not bad warriors," he commented, "but they have no real plan, no real strategy. Their only strength is in numbers."

"That's usually enough," Avanwë said.

"Well, that was before they met the Fellowship of the Ring. You have any rope?"

"No, why?"

"I was going to lasso a gleem and jump on its back, of course."

"Here," Radagast yelled over the ruckus, tossing him some. Then he whistled quietly. A horse came flying down out of the sky, wings open in his own gesture of greeting to the Wizard. His mane had earned him the name Rainbow, but the rest of him was silver-white. His wings outstretched even the gleems', and he had no saddle or reins.

"They'll be easier to lasso from their own realm, the sky," Radagast explained. "There's room for the two of you. Have fun, you crazy Elven show-offs." He turned around just in time to bonk another gleem on the head before he shot the two elves. Legolas and Avanwë mounted.

* * *

"This _is_ harder," Balo said, surprised. 

"Like I said, you're used to a forest," Noka reminded her. "People have no idea trees make such great cover. The birds helped, too. I hope Rose is okay."

"Who's Rose?" Balo asked. "Girlfriend?"

"No," Noka laughed. "Rose is a robin, and he's a Warrior of the Woods, just like I was. Good friend."

"You miss that?"

"I miss being part of a group whose only goal is to defend the forest, yes. Life used to be so simple. Yet, given the choice again, I wouldn't go back for anything, unless all of you could come with me."

"That is what we all hope for," Tandro agreed, dodging an arrow. "The day when all on the island can call each other brothers and sisters, when we no longer must hide in the shadows, fighting for an impossible cause. I must confess, though, I do not wish to return to glory and honor. Such things aren't for me. I'm by nature a spy, an elf of the shadow of twilight. I am content to be so."

"I, as well," Noka agreed. "I once yearned for the glory of a victorious warrior, but I have seen that victory, and it is bitter, useless even. I do not wish to have people gaze at me like some idol, some great leader or hero, for I, to, am an elf of the darkness of night. The real heroes will always be the ones who have sacrificed their lives, who have died for their cause. They are truly victorious, champions of what is right, yet what honor do they have? Shall all the glory go to the living? Not while I yet live."

Rona smiled. "I think I even prefer this life to the one I led before. Then, I was among peers, relatives, blood relations. Now, I live among friends, family at heart and in spirit. I wouldn't have it any other way. Were all the glory and honor and happiness in the world placed before me at this moment, I would still choose this life, this fate, this path. It is well worth it, to see the smile on one child's face, and to know that you have helped to make it so, to see innocense preserved in the quietest of places, to see some shred of hope undiminished by the gloom that now roams these parts, to hear a real joke, and be able to laugh, because you're not being watched by crowds of people who photograph your every move, to be able to see what is still good and innocent in this world."

Balo paused a moment, and then responded to the others' unasked question with a poem, one Morgan had taught her, one by Robert Frost that had stayed in her mind.

"_Two Roads diverged in a yellow wood,  
__And sorry I could not travel both  
__And be one traveler, long I stood  
__And looked down one as far as I could  
__To where it bent in the undergrowth; _

_Then took the other, as just as fair,  
__And having perhaps the better claim,  
__Because it was grassy and wanted wear;  
__Though as for that the passing there  
__Had worn them really about the same, _

_And both that morning equally lay  
__In leaves no step had trodden black.  
__Oh, I kept the first for another day!  
__Yet knowing how way leads on to way,  
__I doubted if I should ever come back. _

_I shall be telling this with a sigh  
__Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
__Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–  
__I took the one less traveled by,  
__And that has made all the difference."_

"Guys, this _has_ made all the difference. Before, I was just the orphaned daughter of two warriors, the niece of a nurse and of a wandering elf. In their eyes, I may now be less, but in my heart I am more. I know this now, and I'm with you to the end. Besides," she added, "I can't let my uncle die with a bunch of misfits. There has to be _someone_ normal in this crazy group!"

Noka laughed. Everyone else did, too. None of them now met anyone's definition of normal, even, if not especially, their own, and they were proud of it.

* * *

"Good one, Eowyn!" 

"You're not doing so bad yourself, Bergil."

"This is nothing like the battles in Gondor."

"Yes. The two sides aren't trying to kill each other. One is trying to control the other, the latter trying to drive the former away."

"Is that why we're doing fine with such a small army?"

"That's why. If they'd wanted to kill us, they could've done so, easily. They're not trying to conquer the world as much as the people in it. An empty world is useless to them."

"I guess that makes sense."

"If only everyone in the world thought like a ten-year-old, Bergil. We wouldn't have all these problems."

* * *

"You think this will work?" Merry asked Morgan as he and Sam helped the teenager to her feet. 

"If it doesn't, we haven't exactly lost anything."

"True," Peter smiled as Faramir helped him up. "Hannon le, Faramir."

The steward smiled. He had caught on that both Peter and Morgan knew very little Elvish, but used what they knew whenever they could. "All right," Faramir said. "Let's give it a try."

* * *

"Down a little, Rainbow," Legolas whispered in the horse's ear. Rainbow complied immediately, and Legolas threw the lasso he had fashioned from the rope around one of the gleems. "Hold on, Avanwë," he said, then jumped off the horse, still holding the other end of the rope. 

Surprised by the extra weight, the gleem began to drop, but then, realizing what had happened, began to fly around this way and that in an attempt to get Legolas to lose his grip, all the time flying higher so as to heighten the Elf's fall. Avanwë tried her best to stay by her friend, but Rainbow couldn't always follow the gleem's erratic movements perfectly. Down below, a few gleems a ways away from the fight happened to look up and notice. They drew their bows, ready to fire should the Elf and the gleem become separate targets. If Legolas fell, Avanwë realized, it would be to his death amid a torrent of arrows.

* * *

Oooooh. Muahahahahahahaha. Suspense. :) 


	15. That's a Plan?

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine.

* * *

_The result of this deception  
__Is very_ _strange to tell,  
__For when I fool the people I fear,  
__I fool myself as well."  
_–Anna, _The King and I

* * *

_

Chapter Fifteen  
That's a Plan?!?

Climbing hand over hand, hanging on as only an Elf could, Legolas made his way up the rope and onto the gleem's back. Avanwë relaxed her grip on Rainbow's mane. Even the horse seemed to sigh with relief.

Then, several things happened. First, a few gleems looked up and realized there was an Elf up there. Radagast heard Legolas shout and he let out a low whistle. They'd need help if the Elf was going to somehow survive. Avanwë, not knowing how badly her friend was hurt, but fearing the worst, let go all of her restraints, every last warning, threat, and caution keeping her power at bay. None of that mattered when a friend's life was in danger. There was a brilliant flash of lightning though the sky was as clear as glass. Legolas closed his eyes, forcing himself to remain conscious, focusing on clinging to the winged monster, blocking out the pain in his head from the creature's shrieks at the light that still hadn't faded, forgetting the pain close to his heart. The gleem's arrow had been well-aimed.

Then, suddenly, without any form of warning even a half-second before, everything went black. Avanwë, the only one who had heard Radagast's quiet whistle, knew what the Wizard had done. The darkness was not of her own doing, nor of his, but of a power on the island that Radagast the Brown was for some reason able to summon to their aid. For this darkness was not darkness so much as a living envelope. Now, for the first time since anyone could remember, the Nightwatchers' full strength was let loose over the whole island.

All across the island, the gleems panicked. Suddenly, though, Legolas heard a high, shrill sound, like a whistle, pierce all the clamor and ruckus that had gathered around them. The whistle didn't stop, and the gleem he was riding immediately calmed and flew straight and sure in the direction from which the sound came. Legolas didn't let go. He didn't know how high up he was, but letting go would mean death, even for him.

* * *

"Radagast! Where's Legolas? I can't see!" Avanwë called.

"I have no idea!" the Wizard called back. "I can't see, either!"

"Radagast, what did you do?"

"What I had to do to keep our friend alive. Same as you."

"You know we're not supposed to . . ."

"Avanwë, some things are more important than rules. You know this; you let your power loose, too."

"All right, you crazy Wizard! You did this to save Legolas, but now we can't even find him, much less get him away from the gleems. I know that whistle. Athos has sense enough to carry it with him. Gleems around the whole island heard it, including the one he was on. So whatever you told the Nightwatchers to do, tell them to stop it before the gleems reach the tower."

Radagast whistled again, on a slightly higher note. Within seconds, everyone's sight was back, but it was to no avail. The gleems were gone.

* * *

"Radagast, what have you done?" Gandalf whispered quietly.

"What _was_ that?" Elrond asked. "I mean besides and earthquake and a windstorm."

"We have to get out of the west side of the forest. A burst of energy like that from the Nightwatchers, a sudden anger with the power to shake the land and the air, can only mean one thing, mellon nin. Something happened at the dwarves' village."

"How can you be sure it was there?"

"It was no mistake that two Elves and a Wizard were sent to the same spot. Radagast's power may be less than mine in Middle-Earth, but here, on the Undiscovered Island, I have yet to see him meet his equal, save perhaps Avanwë. Yet our restrictions here were the same as elsewhere. We're not supposed to meet power with power, wrath with wrath. We can fight the gleems here as we did the Orcs, Uruk-hai, Balrog, and such. We can guide, counsel, and advise, but I fear these two may have crossed that line."

"Avanwë is . . . ?"

"Sort of. Please, don't ask me to explain."

"Then I won't. What can we do now?"

"Head north, to the edge of the forest. We've been heading northeast. It's not far now. We can find the dwarf-village and figure out what happened."

"Sounds good enough."

* * *

"What was _that_?" Sam asked.

"I have two guesses, and I'm not overly fond of either," Peter admitted. "Either the elves have been defeated and the gleems tried to attack the west side of the forest, which is utter foolishness, or someone else has summoned the Nightwatchers' aid, which isn't easy. They listen to almost no one. I've tried. Morgan's tried. Every elf in our group has tired. Even _Eric_ tried. There was only one person I can ever remember them obeying, and that was Aramis. He's dead. Unless . . . some kind of Elven magic might have been able to do it."

Sam shrugged. Merry shrugged back. Faramir gave Morgan a confused look. "Ask again some other time," Morgan suggested. "We still have a plan to try."

* * *

"Confusion, are you all right?"

"Fine. Just a headache, but thanks, Angelica."

"Confusion, that is _not_ 'just a headache.' Something's wrong. What is it?"

"My brother . . . the Nightwatchers . . . he was the only one who could to that . . ."

Just then, a sound came rising from below. Even Athos smiled when he heard what it was, an old Shire song Bilbo had written.

"_There is an inn, a merry old inn,  
__Beneath an old grey hill,  
__And there they brew a beer so brown  
__That the man in the moon himself came down  
__One night to drink his fill . . ."_

It was a Hobbit's voice–clear, strong, happy, and sure. Merry alone was loud enough, and he had Sam's help, but Athos was in no way prepared for what happened next.

Merry and Sam sang the whole song through. Then Sam dropped out. Merry sang the first verse and then gave Sam a nod to come in with another song.

"_In Western lands beneath the sun,  
__The flowers may rise in spring.  
__The trees may bud, the waters run,  
__The merry finches sing.  
__Or there maybe 'tis cloudless night,  
__And swaying beeches bear  
__The Elven stars as jewels white  
__Amid their branching hair._

_Though here at journey's end I lie  
__In darkness buried deep,  
__Beyond all towers strong and high,  
__Beyond all mountains steep,  
__Above all darkness rides the sun,  
__And stars forever dwell.  
__I will not say the day is done,  
__Nor bid the stars farewell."_

This song was sadder, slower, quieter, so Faramir joined Sam on the second half with a harmony. When they were about to repeat, Faramir gave Morgan a wink. She and Peter joined in with a song called, "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot." Morgan took the melody and Peter managed to figure out a good harmony that didn't clash too much with Sam's song. When they finished the chorus the second time, Morgan dropped out and Peter took over the melody. She came back in on the verse, but with another song.

"_I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger  
__A-traveling through this world of woe,  
__But there's no sickness, toil, nor danger  
__In that bright world to which I go._

_I'm goin' there to see my father.  
__I'm goin' there no more to roam.  
__I'm just a-goin' over Jordan.  
__I'm just a-goin' over home."_

The second time around, Faramir joined her. The words were simple enough to catch on to fast, and the tune wasn't hard. Morgan took her cue to drive Athos crazy and jumped in with something called, "Song at the Center."

"_From the corners of creation  
__To the center where we stand,  
__Let all things be blessed and holy.  
__All is fashioned by your hand:  
__Brother Wind and Sister Water,  
__Mother Earth and Father Sky,  
__Sacred plants and sacred creatures,  
__Sacred people of the land._

_In the east, the place of dawning, __  
__There is beauty in the morn.  
__Here the seeker finds new visions  
__As each sacred day is born.  
__All who honor life around them,  
__All who honor life within,  
__They will shine with light and glory  
__As the morning breaks again_

_In the south, the place of growing,  
__There is wisdom in the earth–  
__Both the painful song of dying  
__And the joyful dong of birth.  
__As the earth gives up her life-blood  
__So her children's hearts may beat,  
__We give back to her our reverence,  
__Holy ground beneath our feet._

_In the north, the place of wisdom,  
__There is holy darkness deep.  
__Here the silent song of mystery  
__May awake you from your sleep.  
__Here the music, still and holy,  
__Sounds beneath the snow and night  
__In the ones who wait with patience  
__For the coming of the light._

_In the west, the place of seeing,  
__There is born a vision new  
__Of the servant of the servants  
__Who proclaimed a Gospel true.  
__Let all creatures of creation  
__Echo back creation's prayer.  
__Let the Spirit now breathe through us  
__And restore the sacred there._

_From the corners of creation  
__To the center where we stand,  
__Let all things be blessed and holy.  
__All is fashioned by your hand:  
__Brother Wind and Sister Water,  
__Mother Earth and Father Sky,  
__Sacred plants and sacred creatures,  
__Sacred people of the land."

* * *

_

Morgan nodded to the group, and they all got louder. Merry got faster. Morgan kept about half his speed, and the others kept about half of hers. The weren't even in the same key. That was Merry's plan from the beginning, of course. The gleems would get sick of the noise and come to shut them up.

Anyone else would one heard a jumble of words and a terrible mixture of five different tunes, but for one Elf who was badly hurt and had next to no idea where he was, much less what to do, the sound was a warmer welcome than he'd expected. It meant his friends had a plan. He knew Merry's voice, and Sam's, and Faramir's wasn't hard to pick out. The other two had to be Peter and Morgan. After a moment of trying to figure out who was the guy and who was just a really low alto, Legolas decided it didn't really matter. Any other time, it would've taken him all of two seconds, but his head was pounding and it seemed a silly thing to try to concentrate that hard on.

The gleem roughly removed the Elf's arms from around his neck and set him down. "That'll be all," a gentle voice said. "Oh, and please, _do _go shut that noise up."

Legolas lay very still and tried to make Athos think he was unconscious. Then he wouldn't be bothered, hopefully.

* * *

Sam and Morgan got on the other side of the door. Morgan motioned for Sam to get in front. She knew he had the better chance of making it out, of being fast enough.

The gleems opened the door. Sam ran for it. The monsters were about to go after him, but suddenly a sword blocked their path. "Don't even think about it," Morgan warned.

So they turned on her instead. Faramir, Peter, and Merry did their best to distract them so Morgan could go with Sam, but the gleems' rage was targeted solely at their teenage friend. She collapsed, pretending to be dead so they'd leave. Her acting wasn't exactly that far from reality, either. The gleems left.

"Good thinking, Morgan," Faramir said, placing a hand lightly on Morgan's, as if to let her draw from his strength. "Did Sam . . . ?"

"He made it down the hall and around the corner," Peter said. "The gleems won't follow him. He doesn't know his way around. He's no threat."

"What about the directions Morgan gave him?" Sam asked.

"I don't even know if half of them were right," Morgan smiled. "I'm terrible with directions. I can't even tell people how to get to where I live, let alone a kitchen in a tower this big."

Peter shrugged. "If he finds it, he finds it. If not, we'll think of something else."

* * *

"Oh, come back, you cowards! Come back and fight!" Gimli called at the sky. Then, to Aragorn, "I think they're gone, laddy."

Aragorn couldn't help laughing. "What was that sudden darkness, though?" he asked Latano. The ranger somehow knew the elf had the best chance of knowing.

"Nightwatchers. They live in the west side of the forest. Almost no one else goes there."

"Why would they attack now?"

"I don't know. Something's happened. We should try to find the others."

* * *

"Wow," Bergil shouted. "Did you see _that_, Eowyn? Total black, and then they just retreated!"

"Yes, but why?"

"Who cares? They're gone!"

"Could Gandalf and Elrond have done this?"

"Probably. That was _so_ neat!"

Eowyn smiled. It _had_ been kind of neat.

* * *

Balo shrugged. Tandro shrugged. Rona shrugged. Only Noka had something to say. "I knew the Nightwatchers could be fierce," he said, "but they've always only protected their side of the forest. This _could_ be a turning point."

"Only if they keep it up," Rona said.

"Strange. You're normally Miss Optimistic," Noka laughed.

"It's just that the Nightwatchers have never been interested in the rest of us. They've only worried about themselves, their land. Why now?"

"Rona's right. We can't count on them wanting to help again," Tandro agreed.

"Whatever," Balo shrugged. "We're all alive. Let's go find the others."

* * *

"Hop on," Avanwë called to Radagast. "We've got to follow those creeps."

Radagast mounted and whispered something to the horse, forgetting for a moment that Avanwë spoke the language of the Undiscovered Island as well as he did. "No!" Avanwë shouted. "We have to follow them!"

"We have a better chance of being able to help Legolas if we all work together. _All _of us, Avanwë. Set us down in the northern village, Rainbow. Then go get the others."

* * *

"I have _never_ seen _anyone _bowl that well," Susan remarked. They were at Samuel's house. His parents and sisters were out. His dad was working; the others were shopping.

"Beginner's luck, mellon nin," Samuel laughed.

Glorfindel almost jumped. "You speak Elvish?!?"

Samuel blushed. "A little. Only what I managed to pick up from the movies."

"Whoa, hold it! Movies? What? Tom, where did you send me?"

"The United States of America," Susan said, confused.

"The _what_?"

"Glorfindel, I should probably start at the beginning," Samuel sighed. He tossed the Elf a book. "Look familiar?"

Glorfindel stared at the cover for a long time. "The Lord of the Rings," he said at last. "Samuel, where am I?"

* * *

"You can stop that now, Legolas," Athos said confidently. "You can't fool me as easily as other people."

Legolas opened his eyes, taking in everything. The room might've actually seemed welcoming under any other circumstances. Everything was so simple, so casual. The walls were a light bluish-grey. The carpet was a dark green that reminded the Elf of his home in Mirkwood. There was a desk, a couple of chairs, and a window with no glass. The gleem had set him down on a couch, a dark brown color. The only other person there was Athos, the gleems' leader.

Legolas was a little surprised. He'd expected Athos to be rough and harsh, cruel in the same way as Sauron, and even Saruman. He didn't seem like a leader at all, much less one who wanted to conquer the world. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, and his desk was covered with drawings, writings, and paintings.

"Oh, so you _are_ alive," Athos smiled. "Good. I wouldn't want a dead Elf on my hands."

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Sort of, but the truth, as well. I don't like death on my conscience. It stays there forever."

"You . . . have been responsible for death before."

"You're very perceptive, Legolas."

"Thank you, I guess." Then, because something inside told him to, he added, "Hannon le."

Athos smiled. At least Legolas felt comfortable enough to speak his own language around him. It was something.


	16. Of Innocent Cooks and Elf Torture

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine. Y'all should know that by now.

"_Experience is the best teacher, but she sends in terrific bills."  
_–Someone Very Wise

Chapter Sixteen  
Of Innocent Cooks and Elf Torture

* * *

Todd had really been minding his own business, namely, making dinner, when he heard some footsteps outside the kitchen. He looked out, and saw someone who was _not_ a gleem. He was shorter, with no wings, and had hair, even on his feet.

"Are you Todd?" the little guy asked.

"That's me. Sorry dinner's late. I can't find the salt."

Sam looked around and grinned. This guy was definitely a cook. "I'm not here for dinner," he said. "My friends need help."

"Here," Todd said, tossing him a first aid kit. Sam stared at it blankly.

Sam looked around for anyone _else_ who might be the spy besides this strange man, then sighed and pointed. "There's the salt," he said. "I need your help getting my friends out of here."

Todd waited a moment. "You're prisoners here?" he asked.

"_Yes!_"

"How'd you get out?"

"Long story. No time to tell it. Come on. Let's go." He grabbed the man's apron and tugged.

"I don't have any keys," Todd admitted. "You need them to open the door."

"Rats. There's no way you could get them?"

"There is a way, but you'll have to do exactly as I tell you."

"I'm listening."

* * *

"I don't understand."

"I know, Glorfindel. None of us do. I really don't know how even Tom Bombadil could manage to send you here."

"Or how all this could be written down here when it just happened in Middle-Earth."

Susan nodded. "That, too. I still can't quite believe I'm talking to an Elf."

"It gets weirder," Samuel admitted. "These books were written a while ago. And the movies, well, the first one came out over two years ago . . ."

"When this had just started,"Glorfindel finished for him.

"Yeah. Glorfindel?"

"What?"

"I want to try this one more time. Close your eyes." They did, and the wind started to blow in from Samuel's open window. It got faster, louder. Samuel smiled. For some reason, this time he was sure.

* * *

"Mithrandir, do you have any idea where we're going?"

"Not really. The Nightwatchers messed up my sense of direction."

"_Now's_ a fine time to tell me. Come on. I think I hear something."

"I think I . . . see something. Light, over there."

"I see it, too! We made it!"

"And look–it's the others, outside the elf-village. We _were_ going the wrong way, but that's what the Nightwatchers wanted. They knew where the others were."

"Wait a moment. Gandalf, someone else is missing. I've only got seventeen, including us." He paused a moment. "Where's Legolas?"

"That _has_ to be what happened. Nothing else explains it."

"What _did_ happen?" asked Pippin, who was close enough to hear.

"Something that shouldn't have," Gandalf answered, looking directly at Avanwë and Radagast, who still had a robin perched on his shoulder and a sparrow on his staff. "Avanwë, you've _always _been able to keep your power under control. What happened?"

"They would've killed Legolas if we hadn't interfered," Radagast said. Gandalf nodded.

"So it wasn't you?" Bergil asked Gandalf.

"No," the Wizard smiled. "Not even I am capable of rousing the Nightwatchers like that. You have Avanwë to thank for the lightning, Radagast for the darkness."

"How did you get the Nightwatchers to do that?" Eric asked, amazed. "From what I've heard, they don't obey just anyone."

"Only one other person I know could do it," Radagast admitted. The other was Athos' brother, . . ."

Latano stopped him. "You knew Aramis?"

"Legolas, do you by any chance want help with that?" Athos asked. The Elf ahd been trying without success to remove the gleems' arrow.

"No, it's all right. I've got it."

"Right. I don't think so." He went over to the Elf. Legolas saw his chance. As Athos gently pulled the arrow out, Legolas focused on the ain and was soon unconscious, his breathing so shallow even Athos couldn't tell it was there.

It was a hard gamble. He hadn't fooled Athos the last time. Why would this one be any different? Yet, for some reason, he knew he had to try.

Athos was shocked when he saw how close the arrow was to the Elf's heart, but even more so when he saw that Legolas appeared to be dead. "Legolas," he called quietly. He got no response.

"Yes," Radagast said. "Yes, I did know him." Before Latano could finish being shocked, Avanwë gave a cry and collapsed, for seemingly no reason at all. "This is what I was afraid of," Radagast sighed, kneeling by the Elf. "Her connection with Legolas is _this _strong. Something happened to him."

"Well, let's go storm the tower and find him!" Gimli suggested in a loud voice.

"Gimli, there are seventeen of us free," Eomer reminded the Dwarf. "Do you want to go try to storm a tower full of these monsters, try to find the right room, and try to get out of there without being killed?"

Gimli thought for a moment. "Yes!"

Aragorn sighed. "If we start attacking them, they could kill Legolas, as well as the others."

Eric shook his head. "I know Athos better than that. He doesn't kill willingly."

Avanwë slowly opened her eyes. "He's alive," she said. "He's trying to trick Athos into thinking he's not."

"Is it working?" Radagast asked.

"Yes."

"How do you know?" Pippin asked.

"I do." Before the young Hobbit could ask any more questions, there was a rustle in the leaves behind them.

"Glorfindel!" Elrond exclaimed.

"Samuel! Susan!" Noka laughed. "How did you get here?"

"And how do you keep doing that?" Eric demanded. "They didn't even say anything and you could tell who they were!"

"I heard their voices a ways off. You were al too busy debating whether or not to storm the tower, which might not be a bad idea."

"What do you suggest?" Frodo asked.

"Listen carefully."

* * *

"Which way, Todd?"

"Right. Now, if we run into any trouble, who are you?"

"Your prisoner. You're trying to take me back to the dungeon but forgot the way."

"Good. And I don't need help. Just directions and the keys."

"Right. Okay. Except there's a gleem right ahead."

Todd grabbed Sam's arm and pretended to be dragging him along. "Right or left, right or left?" he mumbled to himself. Sam pretended to struggle.

The gleem bought it. "Need some help there, Todd?" Sam was surprised at how friendly the gleem seemed now.

"Yeah. I can't remember which way the dungeon is. This shrimp here escaped."

"Come on. I'll show you."

"No, you can just tell me. I'll remember."

"You? Remember? You should never use those two words in the same sentence, my friend. Come on. It's this way."

Todd nodded. It wouldn't help the situation at all if he blew his cover.

When Sam was tossed back in the dungeon, the first thing he noticed was the eery silence. Not even Merry was talking. Then he realized Merry was the only other one there. "Did they escape?" Sam asked.

"I wish. No. The gleems came again, and . . . Sam, Legolas is dead."

* * *

_'Morgan. Morgan, wake up.' _The teenager groaned in her mind, but said nothing. _'I heard that,' _the voice said. _'Come on, Smeagol, wake up.'_

"Athos!" Morgan said out loud as she opened her eyes and sat up straight, but then collapsed back onto the couch from pain.

"Easy, Smeagol, easy," Athos said. "You're hurt, not to mention exhausted. I'm sorry if I startled you with my mind-talk, but it was the only way I could reach you. I need your help."

"Go ahead. Just don't call me Smeagol around the Fellowship. Especially Sam."

"You got it."

Just then, for a fraction of a second, Athos' control dropped. Morgan noticed, noticed his grief and his guilt. "Athos, what did you do?" she asked compassionately. Athos just dropped his gaze.

Morgan knew that look. He had it whenever he talked about his brother, Aramis. The gleems had killed him because he tried to keep the Undiscovered Island a secret, safe. From then on, he'd been careful to warn the gleems not to kill their prisoners. It was too much of a burden for him. This look of pain could only mean one thing. It had happened again.

It couldn't have been intentional, so it wasn't anyone who had been in the tower before. It had to be in the battle that was going on outside. It wasn't Peter, Faramir, Sam, Merry, or, obviously, her. That left . . . everyone else. 'Too many people to just take a wild guess,' Morgan decided. Trying not to let Athos know what she was doing, she opened her mind to the other Woodland Wanderers.

As Morgan guessed, Peter felt it first, in a room down the hall, but he had no answers for his friend. She needed to go farther.

* * *

"Eric, what is it?" Eomer asked.

"It's Morgan," Eric said, closing his eyes so he could hear her better. "She insists Athos killed someone and that she needs to know who."

"How good an act can she put up?" Avanwë asked.

"Good enough for what you're thinking of," Radagast answered. "You can tell her; Athos will still have no idea."

"All right. Tell her Legolas isn't dead, but not to tell Athos that no matter what," Avanwë told Eric. "He won't throw a dead body back in the dungeon."

"You're sure he's still alive, Avanwë?" Eric asked. "I know firsthand what the gleems can do, and it isn't nice."

"I'm sure. He's unconscious and badly hurt, but alive."

"Okay," Eric said. Then, after a moment, "She got the message."

"How?" Bergil and Pippin asked at the same time.

"Morgan has a . . . strange talent," Latano answered. "She can talk to people without anyone else hearing, and from any distance. Only some people, though. As far as we know, only us Woodland Wanderers and Athos."

"Athos?" Eowyn exclaimed. "Why in Middle-Earth would she have any kind of connection with him?"

"Birds of a feather flock together, mellon nin," Samuel answered. "They have a lot in common. They both enjoy a good fight, but they also enjoy art, and poetry and writing, which makes me wonder if . . ."

"Point taken, Samuel," Noka said. "I'll ask her to try."

* * *

Legolas made sure the coast was clear before he opened his eyes. Sure enough, the only sounds were distant bird calls coming from the forest. He was outside the tower, face-down in the snow of the mountains, but he was safe. And he was free.

The Elf slowly got up and looked around. He tried to walk, but a sudden surge of pain in his head and chest blurred his vision and almost forced him to the ground. A cry of pain was stifled only by Legolas' determination not to let the gleems know he was alive.

He wanted to run to the green woods in the distance. He wanted to rush back in the tower and rescue his friends. Yet he couldn't. Something was terribly wrong. The wound was bad, but not this bad. Unless . . .

Legolas realized there was only one answer. "Avanwë, please hurry," he whispered as he collapsed and decided to keep playing dead.

* * *

_'So you can't tell Athos until we're certain he's safe. Got it, Morgan?'_

_'Got it, Noka, but can you hurry? I've honestly never seen Athos this shaken up.'_

_'We're on our way. How're you guys holding up?'_

_'I'm fine. Faramir's adjusting to the gleems' idea of a good time. And you know Peter.'_

_'Oh, yes. Mr. I'm-going-to-pretend-I'm-not-hurt-no-matter-what-the-gleems-do-to-me. What about Merry and Sam?'_

_'Good question. He hasn't done anything to them for some reason.'_

_'That's unusual. Bring it up if you can. And . . .'_

_'Sure. As soon as Athos moves his rook in my queen's path.'_

_'You're playing chess?'_

_'Yeah. It's helping him, really. He talks easier when he's doing something else. He's a little preoccupied, but still winning. Probably because you're distracting me.'_

_'Only you.'_

_'I know.'

* * *

_

_'Faramir. Hey, Faramir.'_

"Morgan?" Faramir asked out loud. A mistake. It let the gleems know he was still conscious.

"Nice act," one of them sneered. "Now shut up or we'll teach you a lesson like we did that Elf."

"Legolas?" Faramir asked, startled. A wave of pain hit his shoulder. The gleem hadn't been joking.

_'Faramir?' _the voice in his head asked again.

_'Morgan, is that you?' _Faramir asked, careful not to say anything out loud.

_'Yes. You can hear me?'_

_'Yes. How?'_

_'I'm not really sure. For some reason, it works with you.'_

_'I'm not even going to ask. The gleems said something about an Elf. What's going on? There are three humans and two Hobbits here.'_

_'They think Legolas is dead. He's not, but he's a good actor. Where are you.'_

_'I don't know.'_

_'Well, that rules out the dungeon. Just don't tell them Legolas is alive or Avanwë's gonna kill me _and_ you.'_

_'Got it, mellon nin. Where are _you_?'_

_'With Athos.'_

_'You two are real friends, aren't you?'_

_'As close as we can be. It's kind of ironic, really. He truly believes what he's doing is right. I'd be the first to disagree, but also the first to tell him to follow his heart.'_

_'That _is_ strange.'_

_'Faramir, I'm losing you. What's going on?' _She got no reply, no answer of any kind, but she knew anyway. Faramir had fainted. The gleems had gone just a little too far. Morgan took a deep breath, moved her rook, and focused on Faramir and Peter, opening her mind to what they were feeling. It wasn't gradual or slow in the least; everything hit the young teenager at once. She had been doing it for Athos. One person was easy, especially when the pain was purely emotional. Three people were tough, and almost too much. She collapsed back into her chair. Athos immediately knew something was wrong, and stopped his connection with her. It didn't help. Morgan had blacked out along with Peter and Faramir.

* * *

"It's not far now," Avanwë said. They had reached the edge of the forest.

"Do you know where he is?" Gandalf asked.

"Not really. All I know is that he's outside the tower. But with seventeen of us looking, it shouldn't take long to find him."

Noka quietly counted to ten and refrained from saying sixteen people would be 'looking' for him. He tried to focus on listening for the sound of an Elf's breathing, but that was no easy task in the first place, let alone when he was surrounded by others' breathing.

Rona noticed him trying to concentrate. "Go on ahead with Avanwë," she suggested.

"Thanks. C'mon, Avanwë." The two elves headed off towards the mountains.

"Anything?" Noka asked after they were far enough away from the group.

"He's over this way," the Elf replied.

Noka held up his hand. "Quiet a moment," he said. "I hear something. Breathing, very quiet, and very shallow. Over here."

Avanwë nodded, and followed Noka. "This way!" she called to the others.

That's where they found him, lying in the snow, almost unconscious. Avanwë knelt by his side and took his hand.

"Avanwë?" he asked in a weak voice.

"Yes. We're all here. We'll get you out of here."

'The others . . . still in the tower . . ."

"We'll find a way to help them."

Gimli and Aragorn rushed to their friend's side. "Master Elf, Gimli whispered, taking his other hand. "Sixteen."

"The same–sixteen," Legolas whispered. Gimli smiled and pressed his friend's hand gently like no one thought a Dwarf could. The Elf's hands were cold, and not only from lying in the snow for so long.

"Legolas, what is it?" Aragorn asked. Something was definitely wrong with his friend, or else he would've gotten up by now.

"The arrow was poisoned, mellon nin. I'm not sure . . ." His voice trailed off and his eyes closed.

"No," Avanwë whispered. "There has to be something we can do."

"He's still alive," Aragorn said.

"I recognize this poison," Latano said. "This is exactly how Peter was after our battle with the gleems last night. But that can't be the only thing. It didn't come this soon, or this strong, and he was poisoned _twice_."

"They changed it," Eric explained. "Once the gleems know what a poison does, they can make it work faster or slower, make it more aggressive or milder, or even deadlier."

"Eric, that is _not_ what we wanted to hear," Balo sighed.

"Well, _someone_ had to say it. I'm sorry if I was too blunt. Learned it from the gleems."

"You know them, Eric," Eomer said. "Would they make it strong enough to kill?"

"Under Athos' direction, no, though they easily could. He doesn't do killing. Under Angelica's instruction, however, they might have."

* * *

Ooooooh, muahahahahahahahaha.

**xWhiteXstaRx – **:) Yay! Someone actually reviewed this! Actually, it was okay that people weren't reviewing because I already have this completely written and am only posting it in chapters for my amusement and in the hope that someone would someday decide to review this thing. And someone finally did! Yeah!


	17. Summer Vacation

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine. :)

"_All for one, and one for all."  
__–The Three Musketeers, _just about any version you can name

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen  
****'Summer Vacation'**

"Angelica, what can I do?"

"You really want my advice?"

"Yes, definitely." They were alone in Athos' room. Morgan had been taken out.

"You need a break."

"A vacation? Now?"

"Yes. You wanted my opinion."

"You know, that actually sounds good."

"Special orders?"

"Don't kill the Hobbits. I don't care what you do to the others."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Even Morgan?"

"Yes. I no longer care." He disappeared.

"That's not you, Athos," Angelica whispered. "That's not you at all."

* * *

Latano whistled and Rainbow came flying down. Bergil, Balo, get on," the elf ordered. Go as fast as you can. Find Ronosa and Nora."

"Why us?" Bergil asked.

"Because Balo knows where she's going and you're small enough to fit on Rainbow with two elves and a kyte," Noka answered. "Just go."

Balo jumped on and Eowyn lifted Bergil up. Balo whispered in the horse's ear and Rainbow took off.

* * *

"Something's wrong," Merry sighed. "The others weren't gone nearly as long last time."

Suddenly, there came a voice inside the young Hobbit's head, a voice that, from Rivendell to Emin Muil, he'd come to know and love.

* * *

Not too far away, Faramir heard the same voice, but was amazed at what his brother was saying . . . singing.

"_The stars at night are big and bright,  
__Deep in the heart of Texas.  
__The prairie sky is wide and high,  
__Deep in the heart of Texas."_

"The rest of the words, little brother. You know them. The others are coming for you, little brother. Just hold on."

* * *

Angelica settled herself into a chair and blew her whistle. Two gleems immediately appeared at the door. "Leave the two in the dungeon there," she ordered. "Bring the others here."

Within moments, the gleems came down the hall with Peter, Faramir, and Morgan. "Angelica!" Morgan exclaimed. "Where's Athos?"

"I'm in charge here. Athos is on vacation."

"Vacation?" Peter asked suspiciously.

"Yes, and I have orders to do what I want with you three."

"But not with the Hobbits–Merry and Sam?" Morgan asked.

Angelica nodded. "I'm to leave them alone."

_'Morgan, any news on Legolas?' _Peter asked.

_'He's safe, but I don't know what good telling her will do. Athos, yes. Not her.'_

_'Can you reach Athos?' _Faramir asked.

_'No. He's blocked himself off from me.'_

_'Then try telling Angelica,' _Peter suggested. _'She might surprise you.'_

_'And I'm Finrod Felagund,' _Morgan sighed. Then, to Angelica, "Legolas was fooling you. He's alive."

Angelica looked surprised, but not concerned. "It matters not," she said, smiling. "He was poisoned. It's lethal. He'll be dead before nightfall."

Morgan instinctively glanced out the window. The sun was slightly to the east.

"What do you want?" Peter asked.

"Nothing I can do will save Legolas now. I have Athos' permission to kill you three, but I'm giving you a last chance. I guarantee it _is_ the last. I can give you the same poison as Legolas, only slower and more painful. There is no cure. Or you can join us. To refuse is certain death."

"How many times have I heard that?" Peter asked.

"From Athos, Peter. He wouldn't do it. I will. You know that."

_'She's right, Peter,' _Morgan said reluctantly. _'I've heard a lot about her personality from Athos. Her goals are different than his. She _will _do it.'_

_'I don't care,' Peter said. 'That has never stopped us from doing the right thing.' _He gently touched a wooden cross that hung around his neck. Faramir hadn't noticed it before. He had gotten it from Athos, who had gotten it from Aramis. That was all the answer Morgan needed. Peter was ready to follow Aramis' example. And she would follow his, no matter what.

_'You two are crazy, but you're right,' Faramir agreed. 'I'm with you. I'm not afraid of death.'_

"Angelica," Peter said calmly. "We respectfully decline."

Morgan forced a smile. It was a line from Star Trek, spoken by her favorite character, Spock. She knew better than to expect the polite, "Very well. You've earned the consequences," that Spock had received. What she _did_ get was a harsh, "Gleems, kill them," and then, "Would you three want to die separately or together?"

"Together," they all said at once, quietly placing their hands on top of each others'. For a moment, they looked like the Three Musketeers. Then all was chaos.

* * *

"Balo, anything from Morgan?" Bergil asked. They were just lifting off from the kyte-village, where they had gone after the elf-village. They'd found both Nora and Ronosa, but Nora had insisted she could get there faster if she didn't have to make a stop at the kytes' place first. She'd gone on by herself.

"Nothing since Uncle told her Legolas was safe," the young elf said. "They took him back to the forest, so any gleems that might come looking for him won't find anything."

"Morgan won't respond, or she can't?" Ronosa asked.

"Normally, I'd say the second. She'll almost always talk to me. But this time, I don't know. It's almost like she's shielding herself from us, or shielding us from something else."

"Curious. How strong _is _your bond?" Ronosa asked. "Would you be capable of feeling pain through it?"

"Yes, we've done so before, and . . . that could be it."

Ronosa nodded. That was Morgan. And his old friend, Peter.

Bergil nodded, as well. That was Faramir.

* * *

Peter had felt it before, the past night. Morgan was well used to pain and the gleems' poison. Faramir was no stranger to this kind of thing either. Nevertheless, all three were glad the others were there, and Morgan was glad for the chance to use her strange gift . . . one last time.

She connected their minds; they shared the pain, resisted together as best they could. Each could tell what the others were going to do, where they were going to move, what to do next.

The gleems weren't concerned; Morgan's efforts only delayed the inevitable. The gleems' weapons were coated with poison. One stroke would've assured they would die. Each was struck many times before finally collapsing.

"Get them out of here," Angelica ordered, "and send someone in here to clean up the floor."

* * *

Todd turned and continued to pace the floor of the kitchen. He had to do _something._ He just _had_ to. But what could he do? He was just a cook, and Angelica had only ever trusted him because Athos did. He'd need help.

Just then, help appeared–literally out of nowhere. Avanwë, Gimli, Aragorn, Frodo, Pippin, Radagast, Gandalf, Elrond, Eowyn, Eomer, Tandro, Noka, Eric, Susan, Samuel, Glorfindel, and Rona suddenly appeared in the kitchen. Balo, Bergil, Latano, Nora, and Rona had stayed with Legolas.

Todd took a step back and nearly knocked over a pot of stew. "Who are you guys?" asked the cook, more than a little startled.

"Are you frightened?" Aragorn asked mysteriously. Frodo grinned. It was funny when Aragorn did it to someone else.

"So, I'm used to guys appearing out of nowhere." Frodo couldn't tell if he was being serious or sarcastic.

"Good," Avanwë said. "Now, Todd, we need your help."

"Anything."

"I need you to stay here so Angelica won't suspect you. One of the Woodland Wanderers will stay with you so you can talk to us."

"Um . . . Avanwë, there's a slight problem with that," Eric said. "Morgan usually relays the messages to us. We don't have that kind of direct . . . connection . . . bond . . . thing."

Pippin smiled. Eric had done it on purpose. The Hobbit had told him about that, among other things.

"Rats," Avanwë sighed. "In that case, does anyone else have a suggestion?"

"I do," Eric said.

* * *

"How is he?" Latano asked.

"Latano, this is nothing I've ever seen," Nora admitted. "It's _sort of_ like two dozen other things I've seen, but not _really_ close. Not close enough that I can be even halfway sure what to do about it."

"I second that," Ronosa said reluctantly. "Much as I hate saying it, there's nothing I can do."

* * *

Athos opened his eyes, took a few steps backwards, closed them, and opened them again. "Uh-oh," he managed to say.

He was in a forest, old with all kinds of trees. This was _not_ where he'd been trying to go at all. Now he was _really_ in trouble.

Angelica was right. That hadn't been him speaking back at the tower. It had been his anger, his frustration, grief, even. He didn't want anyone killed. He didn't want to be responsible for anything more.

All he'd ever wanted to do was help the world, feed the starving people, make everyone equal. What had gone wrong?

"You cannot have life without problems, mellon nin," came a voice from behind him.

"What do you know of my problems?" Athos asked without turning.

"I know of the world you come from, how you were raised believing you could save it, bring peace to everyone. A fine goal, to be sure."

Athos turned. Before him was a lady in a white dress, with long golden hair like a summer's day. "Who are you?" he asked, though he already guessed the answer. "Can I really be where I think I am?"

"This is Lothlorien, and I am Galadriel."

Athos nodded. "I should probably leave."

"Why?"

"I don't belong here, my Lady."

"And where do you belong?"

"With my family. With the gleems."

"I thought you were on vacation."

"I think I've changed my mind."

Galadriel smiled. "Come with me. I have something to show you."

"You're sure it's . . . ?"

"Athos, we let the _Ring_ come through here. You won't damage the place."

She led him along the paths of the forest until they came to a small clearing. In the center was what looked like an oddly-shaped stone bowl with water in it. "Come and look," Galadriel motioned to the bowl. "I think what you see will ease your pain."

"If you're going to show me what happened to Legolas right before he was shot, I'd really rather not." He came over anyway, curious more than anything.

"I do not know what the mirror will show you."

"Then I'll find out, I guess." He cautiously looked in, keeping his distance should the images become too painful. At first, he only saw trees, and took them for reflections of the trees all around him. But this forest he recognized. The Unknown Forest.

An Elf lay there, with a few friends around him. Athos nearly jumped with surprise and joy when he saw the Elf breathing. Legolas was alive! He fought hard to contain his relief. He couldn't let Galadriel know how much it had bothered him to think Legolas dead.

Then he saw three hands, crossed over each other in a strange sign of unity. The image hit him immediately, and then he could see the faces. Peter and Morgan he recognized instantly, and then Faramir. Then everything went black.

Slowly, out of the blackness came an ocean, and in the ocean a ship. One person only was sailing it, scarcely visible to any save Athos, who alone had been able to see through his brother's disguises. Athos saw a big wave headed for the ship. He saw his brother proudly raise a small sail, with a tree on it, green and brown. He saw the small ship engulfed by the wave, and the flag floating gracefully over the waves that followed. Then he looked away.

"What does this mean?" he asked the Lady of the Golden Wood.

"The effects of your anger, your guilt, they have reached Middle-Earth. Legolas lives, but perhaps not for long."

"What do you mean?"

"You know the answer to that."

"What . . . oh, no. I _told_ the gleems not to test that yet!"

"As I recall, you told Angelica to do what she wanted."

"The Hobbits?"

"They are fine."

"There's nothing I can do for Legolas. There is no cure."

"That you've found yet."

"He has until nightfall. Then he will die."

"The others?"

"They have about the same, but this thing is untested. I don't know how different the effects will be from Elves to Humans. None of them have long. Period."

"Do you still wish to go home?"

"To face this? No, I don't wish to. But I have to."

* * *

Muahahahaha. Poor Athos. Hate to do this to him, I really do, but it makes for a good end of the chapter. :)

* * *

**Kabuki773701 – **Confuscious. That's Chinese, right? Need to remember that.

**Anonymous – **Legolas does have a tendency to get hurt, doesn't he. :)

**xWhiteXstaRx – **Hmmm, it's okay if you don't review all the chapters. :) Of course, if you're bored and have nothing better to do than review all the chapters, go right ahead. :)


	18. A Good Man's Goal

_Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine. Whatever is left of the Woodland Wanderers when this story is done is kind of mine. _:)

"_All that is necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for enough good men to do nothing." _–I don't remember this guy's name, either, but he was brilliant.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen  
****A Good Man's Goal**

"All right, very quietly now," Eric said. "The gleems can be very stupid, but they can also be very smart, and they have good hearing."

"Wonderful," Elrond sighed. "So what's your idea?"

"We just need to get to the dungeon. Follow me."

"How would you know where it is?" Glorfindel asked.

"Oh, yes. You weren't here for that . . . er . . . delightful conversation. I used to live here . . . for a time."

Aragorn just shrugged. Eric had seen a lot, been through more than his fair share of trials and hard times, and it showed, showed in the way he spoke, the way he acted, the way he treated strangers other people wouldn't quite trust.

They reached the door of the dungeon. "It only locks and unlocks from the outside," he explained, "so there's almost no way to escape unless you have someone out here to help you out. Tandro, do you think you can pick this stupid lock?"

"I'm not as good as Latano, but I can try."

"All right, but be quiet about it."

"Wait, there's something–gleems, coming down the hall," Noka whispered.

"Gandalf, Radagast, can't you . . ." Avanwë started.

"I've told you," Gandalf said. "The rules. We're not supposed to . . ."

"Forget it!" Avanwë shouted in a whisper. "Hang the code, and hang the rules! They're more like guidelines, anyway!"

Radagast looked at Gandalf, who shrugged. The two wizards joined hands with Avanwë. Thunder erupted around the tower. Brilliant white light alternated with pitch-black darkness. The gleems ran away, terrified.

"Gandalf, look!" Pippin exclaimed. The gleems had dropped three people, all of them badly hurt, wounds still untended.

"Oh, no," Radagast whispered. Gandalf struck the dungeon door with his staff. It shattered.

"Now Athos _will_ be mad," Eric managed to laugh. "The gleems worked hard on that door."

Tandro smiled, but no one really laughed. Merry and Sam made their way out of the dungeon, a little shocked by the sudden light and darkness, to say nothing of the thunder.

But if they were shocked by this, they were overwhelmed when Pippin whispered to them that Legolas was alive. Then they saw that three that lay on the ground where the gleems had left them. "Oh my goodness!" Sam exclaimed, barely managing to keep his voice low so the other gleems wouldn't hear. "What happened to them?"

"Poison," Eric said coldly. "Same as Legolas. It could be fatal." He tried so hard to sound like he was only stating facts, but everyone could see how this kind of thing hurt him. "Let's get out of here," he said. "Radagast, can you . . ?"

"I think so." The Wizard knelt down and lightly touched Peter's walking stick. "Close your eyes," he said.

* * *

"There's nothing you can do, is there?" Bergil asked. 

"I'm afraid there isn't, my young friend, but we'll keep trying, keep searching," Ronosa answered the lad. "If I could just get him conscious, if he could respond to something, if he could tell me what was going on . . ."

But Legolas had no way to tell him, tell him he was still conscious, listening to them. He couldn't move, couldn't talk, could barely breathe.

It was like a dark tunnel with no end. It was like running into a stone wall every time he tried to move. At the same time, it wasn't fighting him. It didn't have to. It could just engulf him, with the right amount of time.

But the Elf wasn't ready to give up yet.

* * *

"Why won't this work?" Athos asked after trying two dozen times to leave Lothlorien. 

"You're trying to leave alone."

"So?"

"Take me with you."

"What? You're kidding, right?"

"No. Try it."

"If you say so. I don't want the gleems to hurt you, though."

"They won't."

"I guess I should know better than to argue with the Lady of the Golden Wood."

"Yes, you should."

"Close your eyes."

* * *

"Open your eyes," Radagast said. They did. 

"What took you so long?" Latano asked without looking up.

"Picked up a few more passengers," Tandro said. "Visited a light festival in the process."

"Yeah. I heard the thunder from here. No clouds, so I guessed some other source. How're . . . oh, my goodness . . ." He noticed Peter, Morgan, and Faramir.

"What've you found out about the poison?" Elrond asked.

"Almost nothing," Ronosa sighed, "whoever you are."

"I'm Elrond."

"You're a doctor?"

"I'm a healer."

"Good enough."

"Hannon le."

"Whatever. I'm just a medicine kyte. I don't specialize in weird languages."

"It means thank you."

"If you say so. Well, Elrond, I haven't the slightest idea how to help this Elf. If I knew what was happening inside him–his mind, his heart, but he's unconscious."

"No . . . he's not," Avanwë said slowly. "He's awake. He can hear us. He just can't respond. His mind is . . . trapped somehow . . ." Her voice trailed off.

"Avanwë, what is it?" Elrond asked, but the Elf had fainted.

In the commotion, no one noticed the Hobbits sneaking off with Bergil.

* * *

"Open your eyes," Galadriel instructed. 

"Whoa, what are we doing here? I said the _tower_, not the Unknown Forest!"

"You said no such thing."

"Fine. What in this galaxy are we here for?"

"Do you believe in helping an enemy when he's down?"

"Hardly."

"What about helping a friend?"

"Of course."

"Do you know where Morgan is?"

Athos paused a second. "She's close, but she won't tell me any more. That can only mean one thing, Lady Galadriel. She's been hurt badly and doesn't want to pass any pain on to me."

"Exactly, mellon nin."

"Don't bother calling me a friend."

"And why not?"

"I don't deserve it."

"Morgan thinks you do."

"Well, that's Morgan. She's a fool."

"She believes in helping an enemy when he's down."

"So do they all. That's the real reason they haven't won yet. Not long ago, they had the chance to let the elves kill Angelica and me. If not for Morgan and Peter, they may have done it."

"Were you scared?"

"No. I don't fear death. That's one thing I have in common with them all."

"Two of them are facing it now."

"Peter, too? Why am I not surprised? Sometimes I think he's _trying_ to get himself killed."

"Who?" came a voice from behind them. Athos whirled around, but then relaxed. It was Pippin. "Come on out, you four," the young Hobbit whispered. "It's safe. Lady Galadriel is here, too." Three more Hobbits and a young human stepped out from behind the trees.

"What do you want?" Athos groaned.

"Well," Sam started. "Mr. Frodo says you must have a reason for doing what you're doing, Mr. Athos, sir. We were just wonderin' what it was."

"Oh, only curious, are you?" Athos smiled. "Close your eyes, and I shall show you all what you may or may not want to see."

* * *

"What happened to her?" Balo asked. 

"Her mind . . . she's connected to him somehow. They share feelings, thoughts, pain. My guess is she was trying to help him out, the best way she knew," Radagast said.

"Will she . . ?" Aragorn started to ask.

"I don't think so," Latano said. "The poison can't hurt her. She can only share his pain, but that alone might help. Her strength added to his might be enough to stop it."

"I doubt it," Nora said. "The poison is strong."

"Sis, for the millionth time, you rely too much on facts and figures," Noka put in. "Together, they might be able to hold on long enough for the rest of us to find a cure."

"Since Avanwë said he _is_ conscious, knowing everyone else is safe will definitely encourage him," Latano said. "Aragorn, Gimli, you especially. I can tell a great friendship exists between the three of you."

"What about the others?" Aragorn asked.

"I don't know," Latano admitted. "I just don't know."

"Well, I do," Eric said. "We need help, and we're not going to get it just sitting here. We need Peter awake or at least conscious to get off this crazy island, so that's out. That leaves the dwarves, who know nothing about gleem poison, the kytes, of whom Ronosa only knows even a little, and the elves."

"Who know a lot?" Eomer guessed. Eric nodded.

"No way," Noka said firmly. "Last time we tried to go back there for help, we were all captured and would've been killed if it weren't for Balo. The time before that, Peter go shot. There's no way they'll help us."

"Then perhaps I can," suggested a soft voice from behind them. It was Galadriel.

"How did you . . ?" Glorfindel asked, but then, realizing what a foolish question it was, tried another one. "Where're the Hobbits?"

Eowyn looked around. "And Bergil," she added.

"Oh, no," Aragorn whispered.

"What is it?" Eric asked.

"They're with Athos."

* * *

"Open your eyes," Athos said, smiling. They were off that crazy island, out of the place where he felt so much tension. Now he was relaxed. He could be himself. 

"Where are we?" Bergil asked.

"Welcome to Indiana, mellon nin." He started whistling some strange tune that others would've recognized as "Gary, Indiana," from The Music Man.

"To _what_?" Pippin asked.

"Follow me," Athos said.

"Why should we trust you?" Frodo asked suspiciously.

"Because I could easily blow this whistle and call the gleems down to attack you. You wouldn't stand a chance, but I want you to understand me."

They walked about a dozen meters and stopped at a house. "Nice place," Sam said, immediately noticing the garden.

"It certainly looks that way," Athos nodded, his voice suddenly sad. "A family of four lives here, or what passes for a family of four, my friends. The mother is never home. Mostly, she's in jail for doing drugs or drunk driving or something of that sort. The father has two jobs, one at a store and one at a factory, and can still barely manage to pay for food and housing. The sixteen-year-old brings his girlfriend home half the time because her parents are always fighting. The ten-year-old here wraps herself in sports, school, books, _anything_ to keep her mind off the horrors of real life."

His companions' eyes were wide. "Welcome to my world," Athos nodded. "It can get worse than this, but I don't want to show you more of this kind of thing than I have to. This is why. I can change all of this. If they would only see . . ."

"Who planted the flowers?" Sam asked.

"The yellow and white ones, daisies, grow here naturally. They're actually considered a weed in most places. The smaller purple ones are called tobacco weed. The red ones are tulips. The father, Nicholas, planed those. The son, Arthur, planted the roses, and the daughter planed . . . well, everything else: lilies, sunflowers, marigolds."

"You know them pretty well?" Sam asked

"I guess you could say that. I stop here a couple times a month, disguised as a traveling salesman. Only the children know who I really am. I help them out however I can, but I usually don't have any money–just vegetables and fruits the gleems grow." He chucked a little. "Angelica usually objects to the leader of the gleems going house to house like a homeless man, but I like it."

"How long have you been doing this?" Frodo asked.

"Quite a while. I've visited this particular house for three years now. Some I've been to for even longer than that."

Pippin, all this time, had been unusually quiet. Merry glanced over at his friend to see if he might be planning something. Sure enough, Pippin had that look in his eyes. "Follow me," he whispered to Merry and Bergil. They hurried off before Athos could notice.

"You have a plan?" Merry asked.

Pippin nodded. "We need to convince him this place doesn't need to be changed."

"From what I've seen, it _does_," Merry observed.

"Then we need to convince him that this isn't the way to do it," Bergil said. "The taking-over-the-world-thing, I mean. The going-house-to-house-helping-people thing is more on the right track."

"How do we do that?" Merry asked.

"I have a plan," Pippin smiled.

* * *

**Kabuki773701 -- **Oh, I like cliffhangers. :) Muahahahahaha. Just got finished watching the second Matrix movie. (Haven't seen the third one yet.) So I'm in a cliffhanger mood. :)


	19. Pippin's Plan

"_This could be such a beautiful world if we could all care just a little more."  
_–Rosalind Welcher

"_Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life. Can you give that to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death in judgement, fearing for your own safety. Even the wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."  
_–Gandalf, The Fellowship of the Ring

_Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine.

* * *

**Chapter 19  
****Pippin's Plan**_

"We have to go after them!" Gimli exclaimed. "They're the reason we came here! If they're with Athos, they're in danger!"

"No . . . they're not," Morgan said weakly, her eyes slowly coming open. "He won't hurt them."

"Morgan!" Radagast exclaimed, a little surprised, both that she was awake and that she was defending Athos.

"Do you really think he won't hurt them after what he did to you?" Aragorn asked.

"He could've easily killed them before. He didn't. I saw in him a . . . reluctance to hurt people so innocent."

"Oh, and what does that make you?" Gimli asked.

"A threat to his plan. He doesn't see them as a problem, especially if he can manage to convince them he's right."

"So we have come all this way for nothing?"

Morgan blushed. "Well, we rescued Eomer," she ventured.

"Yes, but now you and Peter and Faramir and Legolas might die instead!" Eomer shouted. "What good is that?"

Morgan closed her eyes a moment and tried to stop the ringing in her ears. Unsuccessful, she decided to try again. "How's Legolas?" she asked.

"Not . . . so good," Avanwë said painfully, struggling to keep the Elf conscious. "What about you three?"

"Could . . . be worse. Gleems . . . gave us a slower . . . kind of poison. More time . . ."

Not much more, Morgan knew, but her friends had enough to worry about without adding her, Peter, and Faramir to the list. Legolas was dying. The Hobbits were missing again and so was Bergil. If they could only get to Rivendell . . .

Elrond was thinking the same thing. He hated to admit it, but he didn't know what he was doing. He looked at Galadriel. She looked at Gandalf. He nodded. "It's worth a try," the Wizard said.

"What is?" Radagast asked, but then realized what they meant. He nodded, holding Peter's hand tight. "Morgan?" he asked. "Can you and Peter handle this."

"Do we have a choice? If we don't, we're dead. Peter's unconscious, but I think I can still reach him, if you three help." She looked up at the Elves and Wizards. If you've never seen an Elf, a Half-Elf, and two Wizards all nodding vigorously at the same time, it's pretty hilarious.

"Let's do it, then," Gandalf said. "Close your eyes."

* * *

"What makes you think you can change all this, Athos?" Frodo asked

"I'm the gleems' leader. They have the power and the numbers to change what they want."

"Killing anyone who opposes them I suppose?"

"I'm not a murderer, my young Hobbit. I never kill unless it is absolutely necessary, and I get no pleasure from it."

* * *

"Shhh," Pippin cautioned, a little ways off.

"You think this will work?" Bergil asked.

"What could be more convincing?" the young Hobbit asked, cradling a small, fluffy bundle in his arms. "The worst he can do is not listen."

"No, the worst he can do is kill us all," Merry said, as optimistic as ever. "He can't do worse than that."

"I don't know," Bergil said. "You saw what the gleems did to Legolas. That may be worse."

* * *

"Open your eyes," Gandalf said. He glanced around quickly. Imladris. Avanwë, Galadriel, Elrond, Glorfindel, Eomer, Eowyn, Radagast, Susan, Samuel, Gimli, Eric, Tandro, Noka, Rona, Balo, Nora, Ronosa, Morgan, Peter, Faramir, and Legolas. Wait. Something was wrong. Aragorn. Latano. Where were they?

Morgan had fainted. The Wizard had expected that. _'The power of the three is waning,' _he thought to himself._ 'I hope it will be enough.'_

"Erestor!" Elrond called. "Erestor?" The Elf came running, and from only the sound of Elrond's voice could tell something was terribly wrong.

"Valar!" he exclaimed when he saw what had happened. "Who did this?"

"A new enemy," Elrond said wearily.

"Where are the Hobbits? Bergil? Aragorn?"

"You don't want to know."

"That bad?"

"That bad."

"You can tell me about it once we get these four to the Healing Wing. Wasn't there another one of those short . . ."

"Elves," Balo finished for him. "My uncle, Latano. "Where is he?"

"I'm afraid we've left him behind," Noka said. "Don't worry, Balo. Latano can take care of himself."

* * *

"Open your eyes," Latano said after a moment of silence. They, as the others had guessed, were still in the forest–just he and Aragorn.

"Well, that's that," the ranger said. "We may never get back to Middle-Earth."

"Part of you sounds . . . relieved."

"Latano, I'm a king back there, but I used to be a ranger out of the wild, someone no one would willingly talk to. I used to have all the time I wanted to roam the wilderness in search of adventure and danger. Did you know I'm eighty-seven?"

"You're young," Latano smiled.

"So the elves here are immortal, too?"

"We are. Strider, I think I understand."

"I was hoping you would. Not too many people do."

"Well, I guess I'm not 'too many people.' I'm just one elf who, like yourself, loves adventure and danger, but doesn't want to put others' lives at risk."

Aragorn smiled. Years of wandering the wild country had almost made him forget that there's usually someone out there who will listen, and try to understand.

Suddenly, there was a high-pitched shriek from above and a low bird call from the trees at the same moment. "Take cover!" Latano called, but it was too late. The gleems and the elves had seen them.

* * *

"I'm so sorry, Daëlin," Radagast whispered. "I should've stayed with you."

"Nonsense, Radagast," Peter said weakly. The elves had managed to wake him. "That would've accomplished nothing, save for the battles to continue longer because you weren't there to call the Nightwatchers."

"Elrond and Gandalf have something they need to tell you."

"Well, let them in."

Radagast opened the door. Peter tried hard to smile as his friends entered. "Mae govannen," he said, doing his best at an Elvish accent.

Elrond smiled at the attempt. "Hannon le."

Peter studied his face carefully. "You found something," he said, dropping the accent that hadn't sounded the least bit Elvish.

Gandalf looked at Elrond, who nodded. "We found a Palantir," the Wizard said. "In the cabin on the other side of the forest. Did you know Aramis had it?"

Peter nodded. "He told me once, but he said it could be dangerous, so I didn't try to use it."

"That was wise," Gandalf said. "Others would've known about you."

"As if we don't have enough troubles of our own," Peter smiled. "How're the others?"

"We've found something that will slow the poison, but nothing to stop it," Elrond said, somehow knowing the old man wouldn't believe him if he tried to lie and give him better news.

"Where are they?"

"They're in rooms close to here. Nora, Ronosa, and I are trying our best, but we can't seem to find anything."

Peter nodded understandingly, and gently touched the cross around his neck. "Would you three leave for a moment?" he asked.

Gandalf and Elrond left. Radagast didn't budge. "Daëlin, I know what you're going to do, and I won't let you go alone," he said firmly.

"You can come then," Peter said reluctantly. "Morgan's still unconscious, and none of the others would immediately notice we're gone."

"You're sure about this?'

"He's the only one who can help us. He's an expert."

"But _will_ he help us?"

"I don't know, melon nin, but I'm wiling to give it a try."

"And I'm with you to the end."

"Hannon le."

"Always glad to repay a favor."

"Then hand me my walking stick and close your eyes."

* * *

"He'll live, sister," Eomer assured Eowyn.

"How? If Elrond can't find a cure, then who can?"

"He just needs a little time," Noka said. "My sister says they've already made progress."

"But what about my uncle? Where is he?" Balo asked.

"I don't know, Balo," Noka said, putting a comforting arm around the young elf's shoulder. "He and Aragorn will be fine, though. I know that elf, and Aragorn seems like a terrific warrior."

"He is," Eowyn put in, taking Faramir's hand gently. She was amazed at what a strong bond the Woodland Wanderers had, how much they cared about each other, as if they were family. What she didn't know was they recently it had been stretched to the limits, and strengthened by it. Not long ago, they'd thought Athos had killed Morgan. It had taken a supposed death to make them really family, to make them realize they had to stand together.

* * *

"Gimli, mellon nin, will you _stop pacing_?" Avanwë asked impatiently.

"And what, exactly, am I _supposed _to do?"

"Well, you're shaking the floor."

"I am not."

"You are," Glorfindel confirmed. "Sit down, Gimli." Gimli sat down, mumbling something about Elves.

Tandro came over and sat by the Dwarf. "I know how you feel," he said quietly.

"Do you?"

"I'm only assuming Latano is with Aragorn. Gimli, he's my best friend, though he's far older, and Morgan is close to us like Legolas is to you. So's Peter."

"I just don't like sitting here and doing nothing," Gimli admitted.

"You're not the only one."

Gimli glanced over at Legolas, still motionless on the bed, and at Avanwë, kneeling by his side, eyes closed.

Just then, a young girl was walking by the door, injured and more than a little confused. Tandro's head perked up at the sound of her footsteps. "Is this Imladris?" the girl asked, and she collapsed.

"I'll find Elrond," Tandro said, running off.

* * *

"This is a nice place," Samuel said to no one in particular.

"It is," Galadriel agreed, surprising him from behind. "You're Samuel, aren't you? Peter told me about you."

Samuel blushed a little, then realized what the meant. "Peter's been to Laurelindorinan!" he exclaimed.

Galadriel seemed a little surprised. "He said you knew about us," she said quietly. "I don't understand how."

"I'm not exactly sure how to explain it."

"Then don't."

"Where's Susan?"

"With Morgan and Rona. And Eric."

* * *

Actually, Eric wasn't with them at all. He was wandering around, feeling very, very out of place. Finally, he decided to check on how Ronosa and Nora were doing.

"Hey, y'all," he said. "Anything?"

"See answer from two minutes ago," Nora answered.

"Still nothing?"

"Yup," Ronosa sighed. "_Still_ getting nowhere."

"How long do we have?" Eric asked.

"As long as what we've found and the delayed effects of time here can give us," the kyte said.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Yeah. Hope and pray that it will be enough."

* * *

"I don't feel right leaving them in there alone," Gandalf said worriedly. "I keep getting the feeling something's going to happen."

"We should check and see what's going on," Elrond agreed. He opened the door. No one was there.

"We were too late," Gandalf whispered. "Let's hope those two find what they're looking for."

"What _are_ they looking for?"

"Help. Help of the strangest sort."

Just then, Tandro came running down the hall. "Elrond! Elrond!" he shouted. "There's a girl here! She's wounded. She needs your help!"

"Where is she?" Elrond asked immediately, glad for an easier task.

"This way."

* * *

"Athos!" Pippin called. "Athos!"

"What is it?"

"I found . . . a reason why . . . you shouldn't . . . do this," the young Hobbit explained, a little out of breath from running. He held out the small bundle to Athos: a young puppy, small, innocent.

"I don't understand."

"There is still innocence, goodness, in this world. If you do what you plan to, not only those who are doing wrong will suffer. Those close to them will, too. If you plan to punish, for example, the mother here, which you probably do from the way you talk about her, the rest of the family will be hurt, as well."

Frodo stared at his young cousin. Where had he learned this? When did he stop being completely naive, the epitome of innocence?"

"Besides, who wants to fight a war when you can drink a pint of ale at the Green Dragon?" Pippin added. Frodo grinned. The innocence was still there.

* * *

**xWhit3StaRx -- **Well, the cliffhanger wasn't as bad this time. :) I hope.

**Kabuki773701 -- **That's okay, I only just saw the Matrix about a month ago. There's this really terrible cliffhanger at the end of the second one. :) Yeah, you were the only one who reviewed the whatever-number-it-was chapter, but that's okay. :)

**Quen -- **Well, the Deep in the Heart of Texas thing is kind of a metaphor, which basically means I had it stuck in my head half the time I was writing this and so I figured out how to kind of weave it into the story, which may or may not have been a good idea. About Galadriel, you kind of have to look at the bigger picture, which means I don't really know what she's doing there, really, but she's there, so I'm dealing with it. I know, I've left a lot of questions and not everything makes sense, but that happens whenever I decide to mix another group with the Woodland Wanderers because I have to explain everything there is to know about the Undiscovered island and gleems and Athos and stuff and still kind of focus on the other people, too, not just explaining background. So what I think may be thoroughly explained someone else might not understand at all, because of background, because of metaphors, because of something I meant to put in, but left out by mistake, all sorts of things. So if you have a question, ask, and I'll try my best to explain what's going on, but there are some things in my mind that even I don't understand, and some things I just throw into stories at random and hope people assume there's some deeper metaphorical meaning even though there realy is none. :) Okay, that was my attempt at total honesty, and this is way too long by now, so I'll just say, Thanks for reviewing and hope it's starting to make more sense.


	20. Hannon le

"_Life owes us little; we owe it everything. The only true happiness comes from squandering ourselves for a purpose."_ –John Mason Brown

_All that is gold does not glitter,  
__Not all those who wander are lost;  
__The old that is strong does not wither,  
__Deep roots are not reached by the frost.  
_–The Fellowship of the Ring

* * *

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine. Whatever is left of the Woodland Wanderers when this is over are still not exactly mine. 

**Chapter Twenty  
Hannon Le**

**

* * *

**

Elrond had gathered them all together again. Morgan, Legolas, and Faramir, still unconscious, were on the beds in a large room. Everyone else gathered around, attention focused on the small ten-or-eleven-year-old human who had recently arrived.Elrond had tended her wounds easily, bandaged her arm, and assured her she'd be all right. _'It's good to be sure of that fact,'_ he thought.

She was young–around Bergil's age. She had long black hair and dark skin, and dark brown eyes. She was short, thin, and seemed a little frightened of this new place.

"We were attacked," she explained, her voice still shaky from fright. "Strange creatures, ugly, fierce, terrible."

"Orcs," Eomer said in a voice full of hatred. "Who else was with you?"

"No one at first. Then two others came; I don't know who they were. I didn't get a long look. One was tall, the other short. Dark hair, both of them."

"Aragorn and Latano," Gandalf nodded. "Where?"

"Not far from here."

"What happened to them?"

"I don't know. The tall one told me to run in this direction, to Imladris. That was the last I saw of them."

"Now we _have_ to go after them," Gimli insisted.

"What's your name?" Eric asked the girl.

"Heather."

"Heather, would you be able to show us where you were?"

"Sure, I guess."

"Then Noka, Eomer, Eowyn, come with me. You, too, Gimli," he added upon seeing that the Dwarf was about to object.

"I'm coming with you," Tandro insisted. Rona nodded. They weren't going to be left behind.

Heather kept her outward appearance young and scared, but on the inside she was pleased with herself. Athos and Angelica would be so proud.

* * *

"They're leaving!" Aragorn called. Latano barely heard him over the noise of the gleems. They were so loud that the old warrior never noticed the elf slipping up behind him . . . until it was too late. 

"Noooo!" Aragorn shouted as his friend collapsed. The elves ran and the gleems flew away, as if that was all they had wanted.

"Latano!" Aragorn rushed to the elf's side. He gently removed the dagger from his friend's back. "No," he whispered. The weapon had gone through the elf's heart.

"Strider," Latano said, struggling for breath. "Are you all right?"

"Good enough. You?"

"You know the answer to that, Aragorn," he whispered. "Strider, it was worth it. It's always worth it, worth any price. Listen to me. Stay a ranger at heart. Stay a warrior, stay mysterious. Don't lose yourself because people notice you now. Hang onto that part of yourself those close to you still know. Keep being Strider."

"I will."

"One more thing."

"Anything, mellon nin."

"Give this to Morgan," he said, removing a small instrument from his pocket. "It's a harmonica."

Aragorn knew it was more, that Morgan would know the gift's true meaning. "I will," he nodded.

"Hannon le. Thank you, Strider," Latano whispered, and his eyes closed.

He didn't yell, didn't weep, didn't shout or take his frustration out on an Uruk-hai helmet. He just knelt there by his friend's lifeless body, asking why.

* * *

"Open your eyes," Peter said. Radagast's eyes flew open and he immediately regretted it. The sun's light overhead was far too bright. 

"You'll get used to it," Peter laughed in a weak voice.

"Daëlin, I think you need to rest a moment."

"Resting won't help." Peter could feel his strength draining. Ever word was hard. "We need to find Athos. If he can't find a cure, there's no one who can."

"He's this way. I hear voices. You picked the right spot."

"Hannon le. If you could . . ."

"Of course." Radagast put an arm around his friend to help support him–just in time. For just a few seconds, Peter lost the control he'd had over the pain of the poison, his wounds from the battle, and the excruciating headache he had because of the trip from Middle-Earth. Radagast caught his friend and gently lowered him to the ground. "Stay here," he said quietly. "I'll find Athos."

* * *

He followed the voices and found four Hobbits and two humans, apparently arguing about a small puppy. '_What in Middle-Earth?'_ Radagast thought, but decided to go see. He recognized Athos. 

"Merry, look! Radagast is here!" Pippin announced enthusiastically when he saw the Wizard.

Athos groaned and counted to ten in his head. Then, forcing a surprised look and a half-smile, said, "Radagast, what a pleasant surprise! What brings you here?"

Radagast wasn't in the mood. "Athos, we need your help. Four of our friends are dying. I know the gleems' capabilities with medicine as well as poison. Please."

"Why should I help you?" Athos asked.

"Maybe you remember the Civil War, Athos. One brother would fight on one side; the other would serve his enemies. They were still brothers. Or, in your case, mellon nin, brother and sister."

"Morgan," Athos nodded.

"You care about her."

"I'd jump off Mount Everest if I thought it would save her."

"I'm not asking you to do that. I'm just asking you to help us, Athos."

"There's no cure for the poison."

"Do you honestly think the gleems _won't _be able to find one?"

Athos smiled a little. "They're working on one, but you never know how long it'll take them."

"Take as long as you need to."

"They only have 'til sunset."

"They have longer."

Athos realized what the Wizard meant. "You took them to Imladris."

"Something wrong with that?"

"Your friends are in for a rude surprise."

"What are you talking about?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He blew a whistle he had around his neck, but the note was low this time–low and quiet. Two gleems answered, landing in the middle of the small gathering. The puppy ran off. Merry held Pippin back from chasing it.

"You called, sir?" one of them asked.

"For the millionth time, drop the 'sir.'"

"Sorry, Confusion."

"That's okay. How're you doing on a cure?"

"Still experimenting."

"How long until you get it stable enough to use?"

"Who knows? We have it strong enough to make the poison non-stable, but we still have to test it."

"Is it ready for testing?"

"Almost."

"How long?"

"Half an hour, maybe."

"You have ten minutes. Then bring me whatever you have."

"Yes, sir."

"Enough with the 'sir.' Now go!"

"Yes, Confusion." The gleems took off.

"And who, exactly, do you plan to test this on?" Radagast asked. "Knowing the gleems, the cure could be as deadly as the poison."

"That shows how well you know the gleems," Athos grinned. "In any case, I'm going to test it on myself, as usual."

"How?"

"I didn't have to ask the gleems to bring me a fast-working version of the original poison. They know to do so."

"You'd risk your life . . . for us?" Radagast asked with admiration.

"No, you idiot. You think we find cures because people like your Woodland Wanderer friends might be poisoned. No, we find them so if one of our own is accidentally hurt, they won't die. I'm willing to risk my life for that."

Frodo nodded slowly. "That's still noble of you."

Athos shrugged. "I take care of my friends, and I try not to kill my enemies."

"Then why did you tell Angelica to do what she wanted with Daëlin, Faramir, and Morgan?" Radagast demanded.

"I take it Daëlin is Peter. Shadowsong in Elvish, I believe. I lost my temper, Radagast. I regret it, which is why I'm helping you."

"Hannon le."

* * *

"This way," Heather said. "Here. This is it." 

Eric, Rona, Tandro, Eomer, Eowyn, and Gimli looked around. "They're not here," Noka said.

Eric surveyed the ground. It was damp, but had no footprints. "I doubt they ever were," he said. "Heather, are you sure this is the right place?"

"Oh, it's the right place," Noka said. "Or, at least, it could be. The rain is new. It would wash away the footprints."

"How new is 'new?'" Eric asked.

"It ended less than ten minutes ago. I guess you guys didn't notice it."

"I'm not a guy," Rona sighed. Eowyn smiled.

"Hey! Wait up!" called a young voice from behind them. "Boy, y'all are fast!"

"Balo!" Noka exclaimed. "What're you doing here?"

"Do you really think I'd let you look for my uncle without my help?" Balo laughed. "Fat chance!"

They went on a ways, and then stopped. Suddenly, they realized Heather wasn't there anymore. "Heather?" Balo asked. A dagger came flying from behind a rock, straight at the elf.

* * *

"I can't help thinking something's going to happen," Gandalf sighed as he paced the room. 

"Mithrandir, sit down," Glorfindel suggested. "Getting dizzy will only make it worse."

"Where would Radagast and Daëlin have gone?" the Wizard asked.

"My best guess, they went to get help," Samuel said. "Peter wouldn't rush off like that without a reason, especially if he's hurt that bad and it's hard to get outta here."

"There would be no reason to go anywhere else in Middle-Earth; Elrond and Galadriel are already here,"Avanwë put in.

"Maybe they went to find Aragorn and Latano," Susan suggested.

"In his condition, I hope not," Gandalf sighed. "They'd have no idea where to go, anyway. They took off before Heather got here."

"Then what about the Hobbits? And Bergil?" Susan asked.

"They're safe," Samuel said, shaking his head. "Athos won't hurt them. Peter knows that."

"If we could just wake Morgan . . ." Avanwë started.

"I could splash cold water on her," Glorfindel suggested.

"Not wise," Gandalf said. "Startling her out of this could be the worst thing for her."

"What _would_ wake her up?" Samuel turned to Avanwë.

"Something very serious happening to someone she's close to," the Elf ventured. "If one of the Woodland Wanderers were to be badly hurt, for example, she'd know it."

As if on cue, Morgan's eyes jerked open and she sat straight up. "Morgan, what is it?" Samuel asked hurriedly.

"Latano . . . the Unknown Forest . . ." was all she said before she fainted again from the effort it had taken to sit up.

"That can't be right," Susan said. "Unless Heather . . ."

". . . was lying," Samuel finished.

"Galadriel, can you get there?" Gandalf asked.

"I can try."

"Do it. Fast."

Galadriel nodded and disappeared.

"Now how on Earth . . ?" Susan asked. "I didn't know Elves could do that!"

"Neither did I," Samuel shrugged.

* * *

"Blast! Sticklebats! That won't work, either!" 

"Elrond, you're worried, you're frustrated; take a break," Ronosa suggested. "We'll find _something_, but not if we're all exhausted."

"No, I'm all right. It's just . . . I should've known they'd run off."

"They had to have a reason. Peter asked you to leave, so whatever they're doing is probably a little risky. But it can't be too dangerous or they would've asked the other Woodland Wanderers," the kyte explained.

"You know him pretty well, don't you?"

"Yeah, I've known him since he was, like, ten. He usually has a reason for rushing headlong into certain death, but he sometimes does it just for the fun of it."

"He's crazy," Nora observed.

"He likes danger," Ronosa shrugged. "They all do."

"That's not very encouraging," Elrond pointed out.

* * *

Aragorn heard a slight rustle behind him. He drew Anduril, ready for another attack. He whirled around only to face one small elf, shivering and crying. 

Aragorn grabbed her arm, anyway, for he recognized her as the elf who had killed Latano. Other people might have killed this young elf, but Strider knew she was terrified. "What's your name?" he asked gently, loosening his hold a little.

"Tova," the young elf answered. "Is he . . ."

Aragorn nodded, released the elf, and sheathed his sword. There were no other elves nearby, and this one meant no harm. "Sit down," he said with a gentleness no one would expect from such a warrior. "How old are you, Tova?"

"Sixteen," she answered, trying to stop her tears. "Who are you?"

Aragorn hesitated only a second before remembering what Latano had said and answering, "I'm Strider."

"Nice name."

"Hannon le."

"What?"

"I'm sorry. That means 'Thank you.'"

"Oh."

'_She's awfully young to be a murderer,_' Aragorn thought. '_She was probably just doing what she was told._'

_"She was,"_ said a voice on the wind.

_'Boromir!'_

_"The one and only, my king. Listen to me, Aragorn. Your friend, Legolas, he's in trouble."_

_'I know.'_

_"No, you don't. It's worse than you think."_

_'Did they make it to Imladris?'_

_"Yes."_

_'What can I do?'_

_"Lady Galadriel is coming for you. And Latano."_

_'Latano's dead.'_

_"So am I."_

_'What's your point?'_

_"Aragorn, don't hold it against Tova. Latano doesn't want any more death."_

_'I see. I won't harm her.'_

_"I knew you wouldn't. Trust her; take her with you when the Lady comes."_

_'I will. Thank you, Boromir.'_

_"You didn't speak Elvish."_

_'I'm a ranger._'

_"Of course, my king."_

Aragorn sighed. This 'king' business was getting to him.

"Strider?" Tova asked.

"Yeah?"

"There's a lady behind you."

Aragorn turned; he hadn't heard anyone approach. Behind him was Galadriel.

"I was too late," she noticed sadly. Aragorn nodded.

"Elessar, a while ago, some of the others went out looking for you. They were with a girl who said she'd seen you and you told her to go to Imladris for aid."

"She was lying."

"I know. The others could be in danger."

"Who went out?"

"Gimli, Eomer, Eowyn, Tandro, Noka, Rona, and Eric. Balo followed them."

Aragorn gently lifted Latano's body. "We're ready to go."

"We?" Galadriel asked.

"We?" Tova echoed.

Aragorn turned to the younger elf. "If you want to come," he added.

"You'll take me?"

"Latano would want it."

"Then I'll come."

"Close your eyes," Galadriel said.

* * *

"Noooo!" Noka yelled as the dagger flew towards Balo. The nearest to Balo, he had only seconds, but he did what he had to do. He pushed Balo out of the way and then tried his best to dodge the dagger himself. 

"Noka!" Eric screamed, but it was too late. The gleems were high in the sky. That first attack had been their cue to start shooting. Balo, Tandro, and Rona returned their fire.

"Eomer, Eowyn, Gimli!" Eric shouted to the others. "Head for Rivendell! We need help!"

"I will _not _run like a coward in the midst of a battle," Eowyn insisted.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!" Rona exclaimed between dodging arrows.

"Rona's right," Eric agreed. "Swords are no use. The gleems are too high. Go!"

Eowyn needed no more. She and Eomer rushed off. Gimli remained. "I can't keep up," he explained. "I'd just slow them down." He knew his thick Dwarven armor would protect him against the arrows, but what about the others?

* * *

"Where are they?" Pippin asked. 

"They have half a minute," Athos said calmly. Peter, with Radagast's help, had rejoined the group.

"There they are," Sam announced, pointing at the sky.

"Right on time," Athos smiled.

"Very obedient, these gleems," Radagast noted.

Athos nodded. The gleems landed and handed him two jars, one larger than the other. "It won't be fatal anymore," one of them said, "but the other effects will still remain."

"Good enough."

"Athos, you don't have to test this on yourself," Peter said weakly. "Why don't you test it on me?"

"Because you three bozos were given a very slow-acting version of the poison, though, believe me, I know the pain suggests otherwise. By the time we found out if it worked or not, it'd be too late to give it to the others. Especially Legolas." He turned to the gleem. "How fast will the poison work?"

"You'll have two minutes, sir."

"Drop the 'sir.' Tell your fellow workers they did a good job." The gleems flew off. Athos took a knife out of his pocket and stuck it in the smaller jar. Then he pricked his finger with it.

* * *

**xWhit3StaRx **-- Muahahahaha, another cliffie. :) 


	21. Help of the Strangest Sort

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.

* * *

"_We must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean. If a few drops of the ocean become dirty, the ocean does not become dirty."  
_–Mohandas Ghandi

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One  
****Help of the Strangest Sort**

"Open your eyes," Galadriel said.

It was quiet, strangely quiet for Rivendell. It wasn't a peaceful kind of quiet, either, but a deathly still quiet.

"Where is everyone?" Tova asked.

"I don't know," Galadriel said softly. "Rivendell is _never_ this quiet." Just then, Elrond appeared at the end of the hall. "There's something wrong," Galadriel said. Elrond nodded.

"Eomer and Eowyn came back here a few minutes ago," he said sadly. "They had been attacked by gleems, led into a trap by a girl who said she'd seen Aragorn and . . . oh, no. I'll go get someone to . . ."

"There's nothing you can do for him," Aragorn shook his head, knowing what his foster father was going to say. "The others? What happened?"

"The time of the Woodland Wanderers is ending, I fear. Noka and Eric were dead when we arrived. Tandro and Rona didn't have long, and there's little we can do for Balo." Elrond was doing his best to only state facts, but the truth of the matter hurt the healer terribly.

"She's still alive?" Tova asked. "Latano's niece?"

"Yes, and yes, but she's hurt very badly. I don't think . . ."

"Please, may I see her?"

"Yes."

"It may be best not to mention her uncle," Galadriel suggested gently.

"Then I won't. I just want to see her."

"This way," Elrond said. He led Tova down a hall. Galadriel remained with Aragorn.

"What of Gimli?" the ranger asked.

"A few wounds, I would guess, but nothing serious or he would have told us."

"Laddie!" came a voice from behind them. Aragorn relaxed immediately.

"That girl led us straight into a trap. Just wait until I get my hands on her . . ." He broke off from the Common Tongue and continued on in Dwarvish. Galadriel let out a small smile. As long as Gimli could make threats like _that_, he wasn't going to die.

* * *

Not too far away, a small girl knelt on the ground, tears in her eyes. The ground was covered in blood, and shouts still lingered in her mind: her first glimpse of war. 

A woman appeared at her side. "Angelica!" Heather exclaimed, startled out of her memories.

"Dry your eyes, child. You have done well."

"I . . . he's dead . . . I threw it at . . . but he . . . why?"

"There was barely a complete sentence in there, Heather," Angelica said, gently cradling the young girl. "How can I answer? You have done what would've taken Athos years to complete. You've put an end to the Woodland Wanderers. Our troubles will soon be over."

Heather tried her best to smile. "Would you like me to take you back?" Angelica asked.

"I'd rather stay here a while."

"Believe it or not, I know what you mean. Athos is often the same way. You remind me so much of him, it's almost scary."

"Hannon le."

"What?"

"Sorry. A bit of something I picked up in Imladris."

"Elves." Angelica rolled her eyes and disappeared.

After a moment, Heather got up. She knew now where she had to go. She started out . . . for Imladris.

* * *

Expert though he was by now, even Athos could barely manage to control a scream as the poison rushed into his body. Every movement demanded his total concentration as he dabbed a piece of cloth into the other jar and wrapped it around his finger. "Now we just have to wait," he barely managed to say before the ground rushed up and hit him.

* * *

"Balo," Elrond called softly. Balo slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry, but she recognized the Elf-lord and smiled. He'd been so kind, so gentle. 

"Tova?" she asked as her vision got clearer. "Is that you? How'd you get here?"

"Long story."

"Well then . . . don't tell it . . . I . . . don't have . . . a long time."

"Balo, please, don't say that."

"Tova . . . if there are . . . any Woodland Wanderers . . . left, . . . help them . . . please."

"Balo, you don't know what I did!"

"I . . . don't care . . . they'll still . . . accept you . . . I know they will."

"Balo . . ."

"Please . . . promise me . . ."

"I promise. I'll help them in any way I can."

"H . . . hannon le."

"You're welcome, I think."

"Elrond . . . ?"

"What can I do, Balo?"

"I hear . . . singing. What do they say?" She hummed a little of the tune, but then stopped. Speaking, or even humming, was getting hard.

"It is a song of welcome," Elrond said, forcing back his sadness and attempting to smile. He came over to the young elf and took her hand. "They say, '_Welcome home. You have journeyed far under cloud and sun. Now in green fields rest will come. Welcome home._'"

"Could you . . . sing it?"

"_Mae govannen bar. Le randier palen nu rana. Si galen aman estë utulien. Mae govannen bar_." The Elf's voice blended perfectly with those the young warrior already heard. The Elvish was beautiful, and Balo knew she was going home.

* * *

"Radagast, how long has it been?" 

"Nearly two minutes, Daëlin."

"He's still breathing," Frodo said.

Just then, Athos groaned and opened his eyes a little. "They were right," he said. "It works. The other effects are still there, but it's not fatal."

Radagast sighed with relief. "Is there enough?"

"There's enough here for at least ten people," Athos assured him.

"Are you coming?" Peter asked.

"I'd better not. They won't want me in Imladris."

"I don't care. I do," Peter said weakly.

"Here," Athos said, dabbing some of the medicine onto a wound on Peter's arm. "I forgot to warn you," Athos half-smiled. "It stings a little."

"Nice timing," Peter joked. "Now here comes the hard part. Close your eyes."

* * *

"They're gone . . . they're really gone." Morgan wasn't even trying to hold back tears. She was too weak. 

"Death isn't really the end," Gandalf said gently, holding her close. "It's just another part of a long journey, one more step, one more path on such a larger trail, a path we all must take. Wherever one light dims, another is lit. Hope must never be lost, Morgan. Those of us who are left must not give up, for those who came before are counting on us to continue the journey they have started, to show the way for those who will come next."

"How we deal with death is . . ."

"At least as important as how we deal with life," Samuel volunteered.

"True enough," said Aragorn from the doorway.

"Hey, Strider," Morgan said, trying to be cheerful. Aragorn knew it was hard. "Mae govannen," the teenager tried.

"How're you feeling?" Aragorn asked.

"Better since Gandalf started talking."

"Good. Then I think I can give you this. Latano called it a harmonica."

Morgan smiled weakly as he handed her the small instrument. "I can't play very well," she admitted, but gave it a try anyway, and managed a weak, choppy version of _'Home on the Range.'_

"That wasn't too bad," Gandalf encouraged.

"Oh, boloney. That was terrible," Morgan insisted. "Latano could do a whole lot better, with chords and everything. I can't even get the melody right."

"Morgan?" Gandalf asked, changing the subject. "Can you tell where Peter is?"

Morgan closed her eyes and tried hard to concentrate. It wasn't easy. So many of her closest friends were dead. Others were in danger. She could barely hear Peter's response of _'We're coming.'_ Nevertheless, through the blur, the ruckus, the chaos, she found him, tried to give him strength, the strength to get back. But was it enough?

* * *

Glorfindel was pacing outside of Imladris, so he spotted Heather first. "Come in, come in," he invited when he saw how sad the young girl looked. He didn't recognize her. 

"Thank you . . ."

"Glorfindel."

"Thanks, Glorfindel."

"No problem. You'd normally get a better greeting, but we're having a bit of a problem."

"I know."

"Heather?"

"Yeah."

"Come with me."

"You won't hurt me, will you?"

"No, and neither will anyone else while I'm with you, Heather. Your pain must have been great for you to believe people like Athos and Angelica."

"It's . . . my family . . . or what passes for a family in our neighborhood."

"Come with me, Heather."

He led her down the hall and into the room where the others were. Morgan was again unconscious, still close to Gandalf.

Most of them she recognized from before: Legolas, Morgan, Faramir, Gimli, Aragorn, Avanwë, Gandalf, Elrond, Nora, Ronosa, Galadriel, Samuel, Susan, Eomer, and Eowyn were all there. Tova was there, as well. "Why you--" Gimli started. Aragorn's hand on his shoulder prevented him from going any farther.

"Glorfindel, why did you let her in?" Elrond asked.

"Elrond, what makes her any different from me?" Tova asked. "Heather, is it?"

"Yes."

"I'm Tova."

"You're an elf."

"I know. We're supposed to be enemies. But Balo told me to help what Woodland Wanderers were left, and they can look past that. You're no warrior, Heather, and you're not evil. You're too young to be a soldier. Just be a friend."

Just then, Morgan's eyes jerked open again. Something had happened.

* * *

**xWhit3staRx -- **:) Yeah, I know, evil author, evil cliffie. :)

**Sean C-J brotherofNallesariel -- **Well, if you only found one misspelled word per chapter, I'd say that's pretty good. :)


	22. The Last of the Jedi

"_He has the right to criticize who has the heart to help."  
__–_Abraham Lincoln

"_Never, ever, ever give up."  
_–Winston Churchill

"_A friend walks in when everyone else walks out."  
_–Anonymous

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Two  
****The Last of the Jedi**

"It's them. In the next room over," Morgan struggled to say.

Aragorn jumped up and rushed to the next room. Merry, Pippin, Sam, Frodo, and Bergil were fine. Radagast was leaning heavily on his staff but would be okay. Peter and Athos had collapsed to the ground.

"Get Morgan in here!" Aragorn shouted. Gandalf did so faster than Aragorn thought anyone could.

"Are they okay?" Gandalf asked, setting her down gently.

Morgan hesitated a moment. "Athos is fine, or will be; he's just exhausted. He tested the cure on himself, the big fool. It works. Peter . . . I'm not sure." She took the old man's hand. "Come on," she whispered.

Peter slowly opened his eyes. "Did we make it?" he asked.

"You made it," Morgan smiled. "Mae govannen to Imladris, Daëlin."

"Your Elvish is getting better."

"And you're trying to change the subject. Peter, what's wrong?"

"Morgan, do you know how many times I've _almost _died, _almost_ slipped just too far, _almost _seen for myself what Heaven is like? Morgan, I'm not going to make it this time. I know it. The others . . . they're gone, Morgan."

"How did you know that?"

"They'd be here with you otherwise. When gone am I, the last of the Woodland Wanderers will you be."

"You've seen _The Return of the Jedi_ too much, Yoda."

"I know. You're too good to us, Morgan, and now you're the last of us."

Morgan didn't argue, didn't deny what the old man was saying. If Peter was sure enough to admit it, there could be no doubt. Instead, she started to sing, soft and low.

"_Did you ever know that you're my hero  
__And everything I would like to be?  
__I can fly higher than an eagle,  
_'_Cause your spirit's the wind beneath my wings."_

Peter managed to smile a little, and took his young friend's hand. "Morgan, years and years ago, when I was ten, Aramis passed this torch on to me. I now pass it to you, Smeagol Fasir Kenobi."

"I can't do this alone."

"You won't. Everyone who has helped me will help you, Morgan le Fay."

"Trying to use all my nicknames in one conversation? You'll confuse everyone else. Did you see the look on Strider's face when you said Smeagol?"

"Oops."

"That's okay."

"Morgan . . ."

"Yes, Peter?"

"These are for you." He unfastened his cape and removed his sword from his belt. He handed her his stick. "Anything you find in a certain cabin that might help you is also yours. The Nightwatchers . . . they'll trust you."

"Hannon le."

"Here." He removed the wooden cross from around his neck. "Always keep the faith, mellon nin. Never give up hope." His voice was getting softer. The pain was fading from him. The weariness was slipping away.

"I love you," Morgan whispered, and they shared one last hug.

"Namarië," Peter said softly. "I love you, too." It was the last thing he ever said. At that last moment, Morgan shared his thoughts, his feelings. She knew he was at peace. They faded into sleep at the same time. Only one of them would wake.

* * *

"Will she be okay?" Gandalf asked Radagast, who was trying to shake Athos awake. 

"I don't know," the Wizard said. "Of all the Woodland Wanderers, she was closest to Peter. They were so alike, the same courage, the same willingness to forgive even when not asked. She won't hold it against Athos . . ."

"Won't hold what against me?" Athos groaned. Then he saw Peter. "No," he whispered. "No! I should've known! I should've been able to tell it'd be too much! I should never have let him come!"

"Athos, Daëlin wouldn't want you to blame yourself. He believes everything happens for a reason," Radagast said quietly. "One man's sunset is another man's dawn."

"Sunset," Athos nodded. "Of course."

"Huh?"

"A book I finished reading recently. One part hit me; a poem by Robert Frost," he said while he found a wound on Morgan's arm and applied the cure before she could wake up and complain that it stung. "Oh, how did that poem go?

Samuel stepped in from the hall.

"_Nature's first green is gold,  
__Its hardest hue to hold.  
__Her early leaf's a flower,  
__But only so an hour.  
__Then leaf subsides to leaf,  
__So Eden sank to grief.  
__So dawn goes down to day.  
__Nothing gold can stay."_

"How did you know that?" Athos asked.

"We just finished reading it in school–_The Outsiders,_ that is. Hit me, too, like some kind of unforseen doom. The bond the Woodland Wanderers had, the way Morgan kept them together and still included you, that's gold, Athos. Come on. Legolas and Faramir need you."

"Thank you, Samuel."

"My pleasure, Athos. You're a good man."

"Morgan always said something like that. I wonder if she still believes it."

"Athos, you know Morgan even better than I do. She knows what happened, why you did what you did," Samuel said encouragingly as Athos treated Faramir.

* * *

Last of all they came to Legolas. "This will work?" Avanwë asked. 

"I tested it on myself, oh doubtful one. Do I look dead?"

"You look exhausted."

"That's better than dead. This will only keep him from dying. Elrond and his people can probably find something for the pain. Now, if you'll let me . . ." Avanwë moved aside enough to let Athos through.

No sooner had Athos administered the cure, however, and everyone arrived back in the room, than Avanwë let out a cry of pain. "Something's gone wrong," she told Athos.

Only then did the leader of the gleems realize what he had done wrong.

"Blast!" he shouted, and then reverted to the gleems' native language for the sake of the innocent ears nearby. "Drat! Drat! Drat!" he announced when he was through shouting. "Why didn't I—Aaaaaarrrrggggghhh! It has a totally different effect on Elves! Duh, Athos! Duh! Elrond, Ronosa, Nora, come with me. Avanwë, hold on. Keep him conscious. We _have _to figure this out soon!"

_"Merry, Pippin," _a voice called.

"Boromir?" Merry whispered.

_"Legolas is dying. Unless the four of them find something in ten minutes, well, I'll be greeting him soon."_

"No," Pippin whispered softly.

_"They still have time, and Athos is determined. He'll do anything in his power to prevent more death."_

"Merry, Pippin, come with me and get a snack," Aragorn invited. Merry looked confused for a moment, but then caught on. Pippin just looked hungry.

"How can you possibly–" Frodo started, but the trio was already out the door.

* * *

"You heard him, too, didn't you?" Aragorn asked once they were a safe distance from the others." 

"Yes," Merry nodded.

"What about–" Pippin tried to ask.

"No time for food, Pippin," Aragorn said. "We have to help Elrond and the others."

* * *

Legolas knew something had gone wrong. The poison was spreading much too quickly, the pain growing too fast. He tried to cry out, but couldn't. He barely had the strength to breathe. 

He couldn't move at all, couldn't even open his eyes. To even try was like having a thousand spears driven into one part of his body. He knew he couldn't last much longer.

Only one thing was comforting; someone was trying to help him, trying to ease his pain. She knew it was probably useless, that all she was doing was making death a little less painful, but he was grateful anyway. He couldn't say this with words, but Avanwë knew.

It had been almost three thousand years ago. Legolas had only been twenty–quite young for an Elf. He'd met Avanwë in Mirkwood.

He was amazed to learn that she'd been part of the Last Alliance of Men and Elves. He'd always wanted to be less of a prince and more of a warrior.

Of this his father disapproved. He didn't want his only son to risk his life needlessly. So he'd called Avanwë to his hall.

At first, all he did was look for mistakes in her story, to prove to his son that it couldn't possibly be true. He found none. Not many women, even Elf-women, had fought in that battle, but she'd used the name Livya and passed as a man. The name wasn't mentioned in any tale because, though she'd been a brave warrior, she was never a captain or a person of rank.

Thranduil warned his son that this Elf meant no good, and would lead him to his death, but he paid the warning no heed. He was curious. For the next week, he and Avanwë hunted together, sword fought together, and got into trouble with the King for coming back late together.

One night, though, they were even later than usual. Most of the stars had faded and the sun almost started to appear when the pair arrived, each with a few barely noticeable cuts and bruises.

Legolas started to make up an excuse, but Avanwë knew his father wouldn't accept it. She told him the truth. They had been attacked by a small party of goblins, and managed to kill the whole dozen. She told him quite calmly that Legolas had killed almost half of them, and that he had the potential to become the best warrior in Mirkwood.

This infuriated Thranduil. He banished Avanwë from his kingdom. They hadn't seen each other since. _'Why do we still have so strong a bond?'_ Avanwë wondered.

Maybe it was because they were kindred spirits. They were warriors, and yet could be gentle as a mother deer. They shared a love for the adventure, the unexpected. Legolas couldn't stand it when people thought he was all prissy and goody-goody just because he was the Prince of Mirkwood. Avanwë couldn't stand it when people thought that way just because she was female.

Whatever the reason, it appeared that Thranduil's prediction that Avanwë would lead him to his death was about to come true.

* * *

"Morgan," a voice called. "Wake up." Part of her wanted to. Part of her didn't. She knew her friends' deaths hadn't been a dream. She knew she would have to carry on alone. Also, she was having the best of dreams, or rather a memory . . . . 

_"So what now?" Balo had asked. What she'd really meant was she was tired of sitting around and doing nothing. Latano's niece loved adventure, danger, flying off the handle and erupting like a volcano for the smallest reasons._

_Morgan had been the first to look to the others for an idea. Now she was on her own. _'No, not alone,' _she reminded herself. _'God is with me. He will help.'

_Eric had easily admitted he didn't know what to do. If a flat-out attack wouldn't work, he usually didn't have any other plans._

_Peter had started to say something, but stopped. Maybe he'd known how dangerous it would be. Did he know? Now Morgan had no doubt. He'd known then that this was the last adventure, that it would claim his life. If he'd known about the others, he would've said something, but he only knew that he would die. He didn't want anyone else to worry about him, protect him from it._

_But he'd gone anyway, even been the one to suggest going. He'd accepted death._

_"Well what?" Latano had asked. He didn't care about life-threatening risks, either, as long as they only threatened him. He never said it, but everyone knew he'd rather die a thousand times himself than have a friend die in his place._

_"Yeah, tell us," Tandro had said. He'd always been a follower, like Morgan, doing what_ _the rest of the group thought was right. This time was no different._

_Noka and Rona had just stood there, waiting for an answer to their friends' questions. Noka would almost always have a strong opinion one way or the other, but in the end would go with whatever most of the group said. Rona was less decisive, though she usually agreed with Noka. They shared the same morals, ideals, opinions. Noka was simply more outspoken about them._

_"All right," Peter had finally said. What he had whispered to Morgan was, "How would yo like to see Imladris again?" She hadn't thought twice about the danger. She loved a good adventure . . ._

"Morgan, come on," the voice insisted. "Athos needs your help." Those words woke her completely. Her immediate response startled Bergil, but he quickly caught his breath and helped her down the hall.

* * *

"Blast! Stupid! This_ should_ work!" Athos complained loudly. "Oh, Morgan, good," he added, noticing her and immediately lowering his voice because of the look of pain on her face. "I need help." 

"Athos, I'm not a doctor, nurse, healer, medicine man, or anything else. I know nothing."

"That's why I need you. Come here." He tried to explain. "This thing here reacts somehow and helps the body fight off the lethal part of the poison. It was designed for the human body. I didn't think an Elf's would be that different."

"But it is?"

"Right."

"So make it stronger."

Athos, Elrond, Nora, and Ronosa looked at each other. _'Duh,'_ they all said mentally. "How?" Elrond asked out loud.

"Um . . . couldn't you just use more?"

"It would only increase the effects it's having now," Ronosa said glumly. "It would make the poison even faster."

"Why's it doing that?"

"We don't know," Athos sighed.

"Oh."

"Aragorn said we only have ten minutes."

"I wouldn't doubt him."

"Then we have ten minutes. Bergil, go get Glorfindel, and hurry."

"If you're planning to test something on Glorfindel, I must object," Elrond said firmly as Bergil ran off."

"Relax, Elrond. I only need a very small sample of blood. Yours won't work. You're only half Elf. Now be a good Half-Elf and go fill this with water. And try not to do anything stupid."

Elrond bit his tongue but did as Athos said. Morgan tried hard to smile at her friend's lousy imitation of Captain Jack Sparrow. Bergil arrived with Glorfindel and Elrond shortly.

Glorfindel immediately got the idea. He took out his knife, cut his finger, and let some blood drop into the cup without a word of protest. "Hannon le," Athos nodded.

"Glad to help."

"You and Bergil go see how Legolas is doing. While you're at it, check on Faramir. Elrond, I need some athelas, on the double. Nora, go find me some sassafras and wintergreen, if can find any here. If you can't, get me the next best thing. Ronosa, find me anything very cold, very soft, and preferably dissolvable." They all took off.

"What about me?" Morgan asked.

"Morgan, I need you here. You're the one person in Middle-Earth who can keep me from falling apart now."

"When the others need you the most?"

"Yeah."

"'Tis a task to my liking. I'd be liable to mess up anything else. I'm here for you, Athos."

"Hannon le."

* * *

"Tova, this is all my fault." 

"Heather, this is no more all your fault than it is all mine."

"Why are you even talking to me? You're an elf! I work with the gleems! We're supposed to be enemies!"

"There's . . . a time when even bitter enemies must work together. I know that now. It's why the two of us are still alive. Tell me, Heather. Why did you start helping Athos in the first place?"

"He . . . he said he could help me, my family. He said he could change things for us, get my dad a better job, help my mom out. And my brother . . . his girlfriend . . . she's got it worse. Her parents are never home, and when they are, she's outta there. He could help them, too."

"And what has he actually done?"

"He's helped the best he could," Heather said defensively. "He comes around and brings us food once in a while. He told me it didn't matter if I didn't fit in at school. He even came by the school and convinced the boys to show me how to play football. He's trying to get my dad a raise, and he even visited my mom–in jail. How many people would do that?"

"What about your brother?"

Heather looked a little embarrassed. "Arthur . . . said he didn't want Athos' help, once he explained what he was doing. I . . . I guess he knew. It would make murderers of us all."

"Sometimes it takes a murderer to understand a murderer. Your brother's wise for his age."

"I guess so. But where's the harm in accepting a little help?"

"Because then you'll see what you did as returning the favor."

"What about you? Why did you join the elves?"

"I _am _ane elf, silly."

"I know. I'm a human, and I work with the gleems."

Tova put a hand on Heather's. "Maybe it's time for both of us to leave behind the world we knew. Balo asked me to . . . to help out any Woodland Wanderers who might be left. There is one left."

"I'm only ten! I'm just a kid!"

"So that means you can't do anything? From what I'm told, Morgan was eleven when she heard about us, twelve when she joined the Woodland Wanderers. She'll accept our help, believe me."

"Why? We killed all her friends."

"More like all her family," Tova sighed. "They were _that_ close. I just don't know, Heather."

"Well, when all this is over, we'll ask her together."

* * *

_'Boromir, how's he doing?'_

_"You don't have long, my king."_

_'How long is long?'_

_"Not long."_

_'There has to be something I can do.'_

_"Go tell Athos to hurry up unless he wants me to get _him_, too."_

_'You're a ghost.'_

_"Spirit."_

_'Whatever. You can't kill him.'_

_"You're sure? Rats."_

_'Boromir!'_

_"What? He doesn't know that. I'm just trying to help."_

_'You won't help the situation by threatening the one person who might be able to make this right.'

* * *

_

Unfortunately, the 'one person who might be able to make this right' was having a bad day as far as inventions were concerned. "Drat! Stupid! Why won't . . . !" he shouted for what seemed to Morgan like the millionth time.

"Athos, mellon nin, take a deep breath. Everything's going to be all right."

"Not if I don't find something."

"Athos, it's been seven minutes," Nora sighed. "If you don't find something in two, I'm outta here. After that, it's no use keeping their hopes up." Ronosa nodded slowly in agreement.

"Elrond?" Athos asked, not looking up from his work. "You, too?"

"Nora . . . is right. Athos, you have to consider the possibility that there may not _be _a cure."

Athos sighed. "There has to be."

"Why?" Nora shouted. "Or else you'll feel guilty about Legolas' death along with everyone else's? Well, you _deserve_ to feel guilty, Athos! You deserve it!"

"Shut up!" Morgan jumped to her feet, fighting the pain, both physical and emotional. "Shut up, Nora! Maybe he _does_ deserve it, but what about Legolas? Huh? If all the grievances that stand between elves and gleems are to be brought up here, we may as well abandon all our efforts!"

"Then abandon them!" Nora shouted as she stormed out the door. Elrond and Ronosa looked at each other for a moment, startled by Morgan's outburst, and then followed Nora.

"Are you going to leave, too?" Athos asked Morgan.

"No, mellon nin. I'm with you 'til the end, no matter when that may be."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Well, you won't be hearing it too often. I'm the last of the Woodland Wanderers, remember? But for now, we stand together."

Normally, the teenager avoided poetry, but Athos looked so hopeless, she knew she had to do something.

_"I think at last I understand  
__Sometimes it would be easier  
__To believe there's no good left in the world.  
__From here, after what's happened, I understand  
__Why you are where you are now,  
__Why you are who you are._

_Oh, my dear friend, we've chosen our separate paths.  
__Sometimes I'm not sure mine was right,  
__Or that yours was wrong,  
__Or that a combination of the two  
__Might not have been better.  
__But we have chosen our paths._

_Does it take this to make us see each other?  
__Or rather to make me see you  
__As who you really are  
__And who you can be.  
__I know you can see me that way, too.  
__Do you have the same doubts?_

_This has passed beyond us.  
__Perhaps we are in the claws of fate  
__Like Arthur and Sir Lancelot of so long ago.  
__I used to blame you for choosing  
__The path you chose.  
__Now I can see that,  
__Like the rest of us,  
__You are only doing what you think is best._

_I know how much you prayed about this  
__I know the nightmares you've had  
__Because they haunt me, too.  
__I've prayed hard, too.  
__We both got our answers.  
__Such is life._

_Remember the southern wind.  
__I will remember the eastern sun.  
__May we both find peace  
__On the paths we have chosen."_

"My goodness, Kenobi," Athos smiled. "Poetry. How unlike you."

"Not entirely my work. I got one line from an animated version of _The Hobbit._ 'Does it take this to make us see each other?'"

"Thorin."

"When he's dying, yes."

"I think I understand."

"Good. I knew you would."

* * *

**Ki -- **Uh-huh, poor everyone. 

**xWhit3StaRx -- **One more chapter, then you won't have to bug me about updating anymore. :) Or my cliffies. One more chapter.


	23. Southern Winds

"_The soul that perpetually overflows with kindness and sympathy will always be cheerful."  
_–Parke Godwin

"_Fear of the future is a waste of the present."  
_–Why can't I remember this guy's name? He's so smart and I can't remember his name!

"_Yesterday has gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin."  
_–Mother Theresa

"_Never look down on anybody unless you're helping them up."  
_–Reverend Jesse Jackson

* * *

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings is not mine.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Three  
Southern Winds 

Legolas felt his body calm. He tried to focus on breathing, did his best to remain conscious. His body wanted rest. His mind wanted rest. It would've been so easy to just give in to that soft eternity that waited to welcome his spirit.

Yet his heart told him not to. He would fight as long as he could, as hard as he could.

It was because of this that Boromir showed himself early. It startled Legolas for less than a second. He'd been expecting some sign that his time was close. _"You still have some time," _Boromir assured the Elf.

_'Not much,' _Legolas said quietly in his mind.

_"It might be enough. Athos is working like crazy to find a cure."_

_'Athos? Really?'_

_"Really."_

_'Then . . . it wasn't all a waste. They're working together.'_

_"Not exactly," _Boromir admitted reluctantly. _"The others just stormed out on him."_

_'Wonderful.'_

_"I wouldn't give up on him yet, Legolas."_

_'I'm not. And I'm not afraid of death.'_

_"I know that. Aragorn told me. On more than one occasion."_

_'Good. So if Athos doesn't find anything . . .'_

_"Oh, you pessimistic Elf. He'll find something. Just for _once,_ don't think of the worst that could happen."_

_'The pain's fading.'_

_"I don't care if the pain is flying on the wings of giant eagles to the top of the tallest trees in Mirkwood. You are _not_ going to die!"_

Legolas tried to smile. Even that smile effort sent a wave of pain coursing through his body. He barely felt it. The pain, the world, seemed so distant, so clouded.

Boromir's face was joined by others. Some he recognized: Haldir and the other Elves who'd come to Helm's Deep, Theoden, Hama, and the Woodland Wanderers whom he'd barely known for a day. The others he didn't know, but had heard of: Elves from ages past, great warriors, heroes. He, Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of Mirkwood, had earned his place among them.

* * *

"At least he looks more comfortable now, Laddie, more relaxed," Gimli noticed hopefully. 

Aragorn shook his head. "I think the word you wanted, Gimli, was 'peaceful.' That he does. We're losing him, Gimli."

Gimli sadly tried to make a joke. "He can't die yet! I'm still ahead of him by twelve of those flying things."

"I'll tell him that if he makes it."

"He will, Laddie, he will," Gimli said reassuringly.

Aragorn turned to Gandalf. "How long does he have?"

"I'm surprised he's still alive."

* * *

"This stupidblastedwhatchamacalit won't work!" 

Morgan nodded. She'd never seen Athos so frustrated. "Wait," she said. "What if . . .?"

"Yes! Let's try it!"

"I'll do it."

"Morgan, I won't let you! Whether you're right or wrong, we can do nothing for Legolas."

"We can find out if we're right. Can you alter the dosage and ingredients so you give me in proportion as much as you gave Legolas?"

"Aren't I the chief authority on gleem poison?"

"That you are. Can you make both the poison and the cure work faster?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Do it."

Athos looked a little shocked. "Who made you such a good leader?"

Morgan shrugged. "Peter did."

* * *

As Legolas watched, Haldir stepped forward among the others. Legolas didn't have to ask his question; Haldir didn't have to answer it. It was time.

* * *

"How long will this take?" Morgan asked. 

"You'll have half a minute, at the most. You're sure . . ?"

"Athos, I want this," Morgan said firmly, doing the best imitation of Captain Decker she could muster. "As much as you want this to work for Legolas, I want this!"

"Smeagol, if it doesn't work . . ."

"No one will stand in your way. I thought you wanted that."

"I don't want you to die." He handed her knife, its blade covered with the faster-working poison.

"I'm counting on that."

* * *

_"Is there anything you want me to tell the others for you?" _Boromir asked. 

_"Yeah, there is, if you don't mind. Tell Aragorn there was nothing he could've done. He's sure to think there was. Tell Gimli to keep counting Orcs and Uruk-hai. Tell Morgan not to give up. Tell Avanwë . . . I'M NOT DEAD YET!" _With that, the Elf struck out with everything he had, from outside and inside. The pain came back in a rush. The faces disappeared. Avanwë collapsed back, exhausted, into Aragorn's waiting arms.

* * *

_"YES!"_ screamed a voice in Faramir's mind, startling him out of unconsciousness. _"Yes! They did it, little brother! They did it!"_

_'Tone it down, Boromir! Ouch!' _Faramir slowly opened his eyes.

"I never thought . . ." Elrond started. "I couldn't trust him."

"Athos wasn't the only one who came through," Aragorn shrugged. "Avanwë did a lot of it."

"How did she . . .?"

"It was like Latano said. 'Her strength added to his might be enough to stop it.' They just needed a little help." He looked up at Elrond. The Elf looked guilty. "Ada, it was natural not to trust him," Aragorn said reassuringly. "Almost as natural as it was for Sam not to trust me at first."

"Athos and Morgan! Where are they, Elrond?" Samuel suddenly interrupted.

Elrond got his point immediately. "This way," he said.

* * *

"I've seen _'The Wrath of Khan' _too much," Samuel quietly told himself. It all seemed so familiar. Something had happened. They would be too late. 

It certainly seemed that way when they entered the room. Athos and Morgan were both on the floor, unconscious. Morgan's right hand was bleeding, but her left still held Athos'.

Elrond knelt down to check their pulses and breathing. Aragorn stood silently by the door. "They're alive," Elrond said in relief. "They figured out the only cure." He shook his head. Why had they, together, been able to realize it, when he, Elrond, greatest healer in Rivendell, hadn't. "Let's get them back to the others," he said at last. Aragorn nodded. Morgan had been the only one willing to work with Athos, even after all he'd done to her. They owed it to her to help him all they could. Either she was totally crazy or there was something in Athos most people–even Elves–couldn't see, something the one remaining Woodland Wanderer could.

* * *

"Good job, you two," Gandalf said softly to Legolas and Avanwë. "You did it." 

"Of course we did," Legolas managed a laugh. "Did you really think I'd let Gimli's count pass mine?" Avanwë smiled. He was well enough to tease the Dwarf; he'd be okay.

"Hannon le, Avanwë. I couldn't have done it alone," he smiled.

"That's why I'm here. You guys needed extra help. I'm glad to give it."

"How did you . . .?"

"It's not the strength of the body that matters, but the strength of the spirit. We both have that, Legolas. It's what brought me to Mirkwood in the first place, what led me to you. I knew you'd need it someday."

"That long ago? You knew this would happen?"

"Not exactly. Some Elves have the gift of foresight, like Elrond, or Galadriel. I could tell you would need my help, but not when or where."

"You guessed right."

"I didn't guess," Avanwë laughed. "You didn't see me, I guess, at Council. I followed you to Caradhras. Then I found you again in Lothlorien. I was at the battle of Helm's Deep, and every battle after that. Then I found you again–here."

"And we're all glad you did. Hannon le."

"My pleasure, mellon nin."

* * *

Athos slowly opened his eyes and looked around. All of Imladris seemed to be there, but, thankfully, no one was paying attention to the leader of the gleems. Except Samuel. 

"Hey, Athos," the teenager said, trying to muster enough courage to smile at his enemy.

"I won't hurt you, Samuel."

"Well, that's a switch."

"Don't I know it. But how could I hurt you? I can barely move!"

"I . . . I guess you have a point."

"Legolas . . . is he okay?"

"Yeah."

"Morgan, too?"

"Yeah." There was an awkward silence, and then Samuel asked the question that had been burning in his mind ever since Athos had arrived in Imladris. "Why did you help us?"

Athos forced a grin. "Because the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few . . . or the one."

"You going to tell me to live long and prosper?"

"The idea crossed my mind. Oh, when she wakes up, tell Smeagol never to pull a stupid stunt like that again." He disappeared, still laughing.

"Now, if that don't beat all," Samuel smiled.

* * *

Morgan felt her dream slowly slip away. It had been peaceful–a quiet ride on the ocean, in a canoe, with twelve-foot-tall waves. '_Only a Woodland Wanderer would call that peaceful_,' she thought. 

She gathered as much information as she could without opening her eyes. Legolas was alive; she could hear him talking to Avanwë. Athos was gone, but Faramir was nearby. Someone else was by her and . . . no, two people, talking quietly. She could recognize Aragorn by his accent, and Samuel by that note of humor that was almost always in his voice.

Morgan opened her eyes to check her guesses. She'd been right. "Smeagol?" Aragorn asked, amused. Morgan smiles sheepishly. "Where in Middle-Earth did you get a nickname like that?"

Morgan shrugged. "Long story. It worked?"

"You're still alive. I guess you and Athos got something right," Samuel smiled.

"He has a good heart," Morgan nodded. "He didn't want any of this to happen. I recognize the strategy well enough to know that Heather got most if not all of her orders from Angelica. Athos . . . wouldn't do that." She fought back a surge of pain as she tried to sit up. Aragorn put a hand on her back to help her out. "Hannon le. If you could . . ." she started to say to Samuel.

Samuel nodded and handed her Peter's old stick. Morgan took it gratefully and somehow managed to stand up. She fastened his grey cape around her neck, and it seemed to shrink to the right size.

Aragorn seemed to know where she wanted to go. "Don't tell Elrond," he whispered. "And don't go unconscious again. Elrond'll kill me." Morgan nodded, and Aragorn led her out to the gardens. Heather nodded to Tova, and the two of them followed.

* * *

Morgan easily found Bilbo, seated on a low bench, writing what was probably going to be a poem once he got an idea. His mind was elsewhere. He looked up as Morgan sat down beside him. 

"They're fine," Morgan said before Bilbo had a chance to ask. The old Hobbit let out a sigh of relief. Strider silently slipped away, a speciality of his.

"You look sad, child," Bilbo said quietly. "Too sad for your age. You can't be more than twelve!"

Morgan tried to smile. She knew she looked young. "I'm thirteen, and I'm not always this sad. And my name's Morgan."

"Well, Morgan, please, tell me what's happened, and if there's any way I can be of help, I'd be glad to do so."

"I'm afraid there's nothing you can do now but listen." She told him everything she could, everything she knew. It helped more than she thought it would; with Peter gone, she'd thought no one would listen to her, but Bilbo not only had plenty of time. He was also interested.

"And so now you're the only one," he said quietly when she'd finished. She nodded, tears on her cheeks once more. Then she remembered . . . _'Not all tears are an evil.'_ She adjusted her glasses a little and fell silent.

"Morgan?" a quiet voice asked from behind her.

Morgan turned. "Tova! Heather! Mae govannen! Have a seat!" Tova hesitated, but then sat by Morgan, and Heather sat by her.

"We're so sorry, Morgan," Heather managed to say.

"I know you are," Morgan said understandingly. "You both thought you were . . . doing the right thing. Heather, you're young, and you've seen far too much hatred, too much violence. You just wanted it to end. I'll never blame anyone for that. Tova, I know how strict the elves are about loyalty, about their laws. I know it wasn't always like that, that after the third village was destroyed you had to enforce those laws to keep your people from scattering, as our island is in danger of doing even now. No one had broken any law for a long time before we Woodland Wanderers started breaking them left and right. We must have caused quite a disturbance."

"How can you even think of forgiving us for . . ." Tova started.

"For what you did?" Morgan touched the cross Peter had worn and was now around her neck. Aragorn, knowing it was of some great significance to the two of them, had fastened it there while she was unconscious. "It's what they would've wanted. It would make a lie of all we work for to hold any of this against you two. Behind the mistakes and doubts in you, I can see your courage, courage our world needs desperately."

"Morgan, I know we'll never be able to replace the other Woodland Wanderers," Tova hesitated, "but would you let us join you?"

"Do you really know what you're asking for? The only thing I can offer you is a life of hardship and danger, facing death every day, a life you can't plan because you don't know whether you'll live to see another sunset, a life of fighting and hiding, hiding even from your own people. I don't doubt your courage, but is this what you want?"

"I want to do this," Tova nodded. "I will gladly be an outcast from my own people if it means I can save them, even from themselves."

Heather nodded, too. "If I can keep Athos from tricking just _one_ more kid like he tricked me, it's worth it."

"Thank you both. You couldn't know how much this means. Yes, you can never replace the others, and I wouldn't ask you to. It's impossible. Just be yourselves. That's all any of us need to do." He held her hand out, palm down. The others placed theirs on to of hers, like a very small sports team. "One for all, and all for one!" Morgan shouted.

"Perfect!" Bilbo exclaimed, and started to write. Morgan, who knew how annoying it was when people read over her shoulder, motioned to the others, and they left the Hobbit alone in the garden with his thoughts.

* * *

They were halfway back when they ran into Faramir. "Looking for the Lonely Mountain?" Morgan teased. The steward looked a little lost. 

"Actually, I was looking for you."

"So are the gleems. What's on your mind?"

"Two things, actually. When we first volunteered to take the Hobbits' place as prisoners, did Peter know what might happen? I mean, he was hurt the worst of all of us already. Didn't he know that what the gleems could do might kill him?"

Morgan nodded. "He knew. He volunteered because he knew it might kill anyone else, as well. He was always . . . willing to risk his own life so that someone else wouldn't have to. It . . . it didn't matter if that someone else was me or Angelica. He'd do it just the same."

"I got the feeling he'd known. He was really brave."

"You know, he'd say you took the same risks. Sure, you didn't know _exactly_ what you were walking into, but you had a pretty good idea."

"And you?"

"I knew what I was getting myself into. We've been captured more times than I want to count–I lost track somewhere around ten billion–and every single time, any or all of us could've died. None of us ever thought it'd all happen in one day, but maybe that was better, as well."

"Better for everyone but you. I know, Morgan, what it feels like to be left behind, to be the only one remaining to grieve for the passing of friends . . . of family, which actually brings me to my other question. I have this annoying song stuck in my head, but I only know the first two lines."

Morgan smiled. It was such an ordinary problem. "What song?"

"_Deep in the Heart of Texas._"

_'Peter would know the words,'_ Morgan thought. Absent-mindedly she reached into one of the pockets in his cape. A piece of paper was there, folded up. She took it out and unfolded it. She looked at it for a moment and whispered a silent _'Thank you.'_ Then she handed it to Faramir.

"_The stars at night are big and bright  
__Deep in the heart of Texas.  
__The prairie sky is wide and high  
__Deep in the heart of Texas._

_The sage in bloom is like perfume  
__Deep in the heart of Texas.  
__Reminds me of the one I love  
__Deep in the heart of Texas._

_The coyotes wail along the trail  
__Deep in the heart of Texas.  
__The rabbits rush around the brush  
__Deep in the heart of Texas._

_The cowboys cry, "Ki yippee yi!"  
__Deep in the heart of Texas.  
__The doggies bawl and bawl and bawl  
__Deep in the heart of Texas._

_The stars at night are big and bright  
__Deep in the heart of Texas.  
__The prairie sky is wide and high  
__Deep in the heart of Texas.  
__Deep in the heart of Texas."_

"Remember today, little brother," a voice on the winds said. "Today, new life begins."

"Remember today, little sister," came a familiar voice. Morgan nodded. She needed no more explanation from Peter.

* * *

Days passed in Rivendell. The Woodland Wanderers were buried there under the stars. Wounds healed. Strength returned. But soon they felt their homes calling, and Morgan, Heather, and Tova knew they needed to return. 

So they gathered together once more: Elrond, Gandalf, Galadriel, Glorfindel, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin, Bergil, Faramir, Eowyn, Eomer, Avanwë, Radagast, Samuel, Susan, Nora, Ronosa, Tova, Heather, and Morgan. Once more, Elrond was eager to offer an alternative.

"You three _could _stay here," he said kindly to the Woodland Wanderers. "You have a chance for another life, away from war, grief, despair."

Morgan smiled a little and shook her head. "We'd rather help others to have that chance."

Elrond tried again. "You know, you could bring the whole island here if you had to. It's safe. The people here will protect you. What's stopping you?"

"Do you really want to know what holds me to that world?"

"Not a lover, I hope," Elrond sighed.

"I guess you could say that, though more so love for a large group of people than one person. Would you like to see?" She looked now like a strange kind of leader; with her grey cape, tall stick, cross, and Peter's sword at her side, (She'd given hers to Heather.) she looked like some strange mix of Gandalf, Aragorn, Faramir, and the other Woodland Wanderers.

Elrond nodded. "I'd like to see."

"–said the blind man to his deaf daughter who was walking a lame dog," Morgan finished promptly. Everyone looked at her. Only Pippin seemed to think it was funny. "What?" Morgan asked.

"Humor," Samuel said, trying to keep a straight face. "It is a difficult concept. It is not logical." The two thirteen-year-olds burst out laughing. Elrond shrugged. Gandalf shrugged. Everyone started laughing.

"Can you get us there, Morgan?" Radagast asked.

"I think so."

"Want some help the first time?"

"Sure. Hannon le."

"My pleasure."

"Close your eyes, everyone," Morgan said. They did, and the quiet wind of Imladris started to blow around them. Morgan felt Radagast's hand on her shoulder and concentrated. The wind blew faster, harder. For a moment, though her eyes were closed, Morgan saw the blue of the Sea, the white gulls, the grey havens, and the young teenager knew what it was. They'd left Middle-Earth, yes, but it was also Peter's way of saying he was proud of her. She relaxed, and the wind died down to a gentle breeze.

* * *

"Open your eyes," Morgan said. They were in a forest, this time in the United States of America. "This is my home," Morgan smiled. "That house to the north, that's where I live. My sister, thank goodness, covers for me when I have to be somewhere else. My parents know nothing of all this. They're on vacation for a week to celebrate their engagement anniversary. I'm not usually gone this long." 

"Who _does_ know about this?" Elrond asked.

"My sister, my bird, my sister's bird, the squirrels, the deer, the trees. That's about it here, Elrond. My brother's only two, so innocent, so young; I don't want him to have to see this, the suffering, the death.

"I don't know if we can win this war, but I know why we fight it. Last Sunday, at Church, after the service, there were three boys downstairs playing tag. My brother joined them and started yelling, "Tag! Tag!" I joined, and, before long, no one knew who was it. I dragged my sister and another friend into what had become tag football. My brother was still running in circles and shouting, "Tag! Tag!" but the rest of the boys were tackling each other. The rest of us joined in, all except him. Nothing real tough, of course, except for the oldest boy. He's six or seven, I think, and a good fighter.

"But we only fight this battle because everything we know and love is threatened. I love this country; I love our island; I love both of my families, my friends, this world. I can't move the whole world to Middle-Earth, and not everyone would come if I could, myself included."

"Are you ever going to come back?"

"As often as I can."

"Morgan," Gandalf said. "The cabin on the west side of the forest, you'll find a Palantir. If you ever need help, don't hesitate to use it." Aragorn nodded.

"Hannon le. And if you need help, don't you hesitate to tell me, either. As long as we're not trapped in some dungeon, we'll come." She turned to Radagast. "Can you get them back?"

"I'm not going with them."

"You're staying here?" Heather asked, delight in her eyes.

"Well, I guess that's up to the head of my order." He turned to Gandalf with a playful smile. "May I stay?"

"You'll follow the rules this time, no more darkness covering the whole Earth?"

"Yes. But I will help in any way I can."

"Hannon le, Radagast," Morgan smiled, "and welcome to the Woodland Wanderers."

* * *

**xWhit3StaRx -- **Man, does that feel good to finally get that all posted. :) One story down . . . way too many to go. :) Hope you liked the ending, and hope I didn't disappoint you by not killing off Legolas. :) Maybe another story . . . 


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